The new garden of Canada; by pack-horse and canoe through undeveloped New British Columbia

HANDUOLND
AT THE

UNINTRSITY OF
TORONTO PRESS

J'f^

THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

SALMON LEAP ON THE BULKLEY RIVER (p. 258).

Salmon run up this river and attempt to jump the falls in
such shoals that the Indians are able to spear them in large
numbers from a rock approached by means of the platform
here shown. An expert will land as many as ten or twelve in
a minute.

The New

Garden of Canada

By Pack-Horse and Canoe through

Undeveloped New British

Columbia

F. A. TALBOT

With 48 Full-page Plates and a Map
of the Author's Route

CASSELL AND COMPANY, LTD.

London, New York, Toronto and Melbourne

1911

597456

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

PREFACE

When some distinguished American visitors once inquired
of the late Mr. Gladstone as to the best way of seeing
the sights of London, the venerable statesman replied,
"From the top of a 'bus, gentlemen." Similarly, if
asked how best to see the grandeurs of an untouched
corner of the Empire, such as New British Columbia, I
would say, "From the back of a pack-horse." The ship
of the bush may be slow, and the trail exasperating, but
this method of travel has its advantages. It brings
you face to face, not only with new wonders of Nature,
but with enormous riches — agricultural, mineralogical,
forestal, industrial — all lying dormant, and silently
calling to the plucky and persevering.

I was one of a party of six which set out from the
western fringe of civilisation in Alberta to make the
"North-West Passage" by land, threading 1,200 miles
of wonderful, practically unknown country — the interior
of New Caledonia, or, as it is now officially called, New
British Columbia. The party consisted of Harry K.
Charlton, Montreal; Eobert C. W. Lett, Winnipeg;
H. D. Lowry, Washington, U.S.A. ; G. Home Russell,
Montreal ; a photographer, and myself. The first and
third left the party at Tete Jaune Cache to return.

The object of my investigations was to form some
notion of the economic and scenic value of the country
traversed. This was no easy undertaking, for New
British Columbia is a territory upon which Nature has

viii PREFACE

bestowed her wealth with so lavish a hand that it is
difficult to form comparative estimates. All that I can
hope to have done is to have afforded a faint idea of
the possibilities of the country from the various stand-
points — farming, mining, lumbering, stock- and fruit-
raising, investing, sporting, sight-seeing. To do full
justice to such a task would require volumes, but if the
interest of the reader in what promises to become the
most humming corner of British North America is only
whetted, my efforts will not have been in vain.

My best thanks are due to the Grand Trunk and
Grand Trunk Pacific Railways for their valuable assist-
ance in regard to facilities for making the journey and
their courteous provision of the photographer, and for
placing at my service the copyright photographs that
embellish this volume; also to the hardy, hospitable
frontiersmen and sourdoughs who, having themselves
got in on the "ground floor," readily afforded me all
possible information for the guidance of those who are
bent upon wooing Fortune in a country which is being
unlocked and rendered more accessible every day.

F. A. T.

CONTENTS

1. The " End-of-Steel Town " .

2. Among the Money-Makers in the Bush

3. Through the McLeod River Valley

4. Crossing the Divide into the Athabaska Valley

5. Jasper Park to the Foothills of the Rockies

6. Our Climb over the Roche Miette

7. Swift, the Frontiersman, and his Famous Ranch

8. The Lonely Trail to the Yellowhead Pass

9. Picking up the Source of the Fraser River

10. Mount Robson

11. Where Trail and River Meet

12. Down the Upper Fraser in a Dug-Out

13. Shooting the Grand Canon .

14. A Metropolis in the Making

15. On the Skirts of a Bush Fire

16. The Nechaco Valley, the Land op Plenty

17. The Domain of the Red Indian .

18. Through the Endako Valley

19. A Fertile Corner of the Province

20. The Bulkley Valley : The Farmer's Treasureland

21. The Mineral Storehouse op New British Columbia

22. The End of the Trail

1

16

35

47

60

73

84

91

99

110

119

128

147

160

179

189

198

213

226

236

248

257

X CONTENTS

CHAPTER

23. The Head of Navigation on the Skeena

24. Down the Treacherous Skeena .

25. Through the Cascades to the Sea

26. The " Liverpool of the Pacific "
Index

TAOt

268
277
286
294
305

LIST OF PLATES

Salmon Leap on the Bulkley River

Frontispiece
Facing page
6

Temporary Wooden Trestle over Wolf Creek
Construction Camps and Ferry at the Confluence of
THE McLeod River and Wolf Creek

" Bridge Flies " at Work

Throwing the Diamond Hitch

The Town op Edson as we found it
Canada's Latest Acquisition in the Far West
The Eastern Gateway through the Rockies . .
The Trail to the Fiddle Creek Hot Springs . .
In the Swamp near Jasper Lake

How THE AtHABASKA HAD TO BE CROSSED AT SwIFT's

Toasting under Difficulties

Pack-Train returning across the Back Channel of

THE Moose River

How WE crossed the Moose River

Pack-Train coming into Camp

The Most Majestic of Canadian Mountains .

The East Side of Mount Robson

Exploring Lake Helena

Where Mountain Trail and River meet

Natives at Tete Jaune Cache

Catch of Trout at T^te Jaune Cache . .
How ONE has to Travel up the Eraser River
Pitching Camp on the Upper Fraser . .

The Eternal Quest

A Trophy from the Forest

10
12

16
32
60
66
70
80
82
96

104
106
108
112
114
116
118
120
124
130
136
138
140

xu

LIST OF PLATES

Facing page

Our Siwash Indians Shooting the Grand Canon . . 148

The Romany of the River . . . . 152

Fort George 160

A Settler's Cabin near Tsinkut Lake, in the Nechaco

Valley 200

" Qu'appelle ? " (Who Calls ?) 202

Mr. J, W. Millan's Ranch at Stoney Creek . . . . 20G

The Author as Pack-Train Driver 232

The Bulkley Valley 236

Turnips Weighing Fifteen Pounds a-piece . . . . 240

Harvesting in the North- West . . . . . . . . 242

Oats Thriving where Forest formerly held Sway . . 244

Tel-kwa 248

Lake Kathlyn (Chicken's Lake) at the Foot of Hud-
son's Bay Mountain 254

Quaint Cantilever Bridge of Timber . . , . . . 266

Hazelton 272

A Hudson's Bay Steamer at Hazelton 278

A Shack among the Trees on the Skeena River . . 280

Indian Village and Totem Poles at Hazelton . . 282

KiTSELAS . . 284

Gap in the Cascade Mountains 288

Alert Bay . . 290

One Method of Fishing for Salmon near Prince Rupert 292

A Glimpse of Prince Rupert . . , . . . . . 294

THE

NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

CHAPTEK I
The "End-of-Steel Town"

At the End of the Railway : Wolf Creek — A Motley Throng — Freighters
and Packers — Prohibition of Alcohol — Pernicious Substitutes — Illicit
Stills — A Talk with an Engine-driver — Gambling in Land — Bridge-
building — A Splendid Panorama.

Wolf Ceeek ! The end of steel ! We tumbled out of
the Pullman car which had been courteously attached,
for our special comfort, to the "Wolf Creek Flier,"
which in thirty-six hours speeds over the one hundred
and twenty-six miles between Edmonton and the point
we had just gained ! And we were not sorry to detrain. In
our railway ride across the Dominion we had experienced
the two extremes in railway travel. Nothing could have
been more comfortable and luxurious than our gallop
over the billiard-table-like track of the Grand Trunk
Pacific from Winnipeg to Edmonton ; nothing could have
been more exasperating than our crawl from Edmonton
to Wolf Creek over a skeleton line. The former rested
every muscle and bone in the body ; the latter brought
every one of them into vivid consciousness. But with
the accommodation train you can scarcely expect any-
thing else. It is not provided for querulous passengers.
It is there to suit the convenience of the railway
builders by hauling workmen and material to the rail-
head, and to meet the demand of those hardy pioneers who
persist in settling on the land in advance of the railway —
getting in on the "ground floor" they call it — and who

B I

2 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

do not mind experiencing considerable hardship in
gratifying their ambition.

Our railway ride, then, was ended. We had come
as far west as the iron horse could bring us, for Wolf
Creek at the time of our arrival was the most westerly
point to which the Grand Trunk Pacific — that stupend-
ous undertaking whereby young Canada has undertaken
to fasten itself more firmly to the Empire with a
band of steel, 3,556 miles in length, stretching from
Atlantic to Pacific — had thrust its steel nose. Our path
was through the "great beyond," through a practically
unknown country, a vast wilderness untouched as yet
by the handmaids of civilisation, where the click of
the telegraph needle was unknown, and the beat of a
locomotive piston had never been heard.

A cosmopolitan crowd greeted us as we rattled into
the " end-of-steel town" in the misty dawn of the bright
June Sunday. Though it was but three o'clock, the
whole settlement was astir, brushed and furbished for
the Sabbath, for even in the wilds they respect the
law of one day's rest a week. There were furrow-eyed
Italians, fair-complexioned Scandinavians, sullen-looking
Russians, stolid Germans, raw-boned Americans, husky
Canadians, big-built Irishmen, brawny Scots, and devil-
may-care English, all rubbing shoulders with one an-
other, throwing salutations saturated with spicy badinage
to compatriots on our train — for we carried a motley
throng.

A train pulls into Wolf Creek only twice a week,
and brings with it the sole news of the outside world
which the isolated community can obtain. There was
a wild scramble for remnants of newspapers. The
postmaster was hard put to it to keep unceremonious
hands off His Majesty's mails, for the townsfolk swarmed
round this representative of officialdom like jackals round
a carcass. With much effort he pushed his way through
the crowd and strode rapidly to the post office, with a

THE "END-OF-STEEL TOWN" 3

bevy of anxious people in his train. This establishment
was merely a rude "shack " fashioned of logs, only a few
feet square, and the majority of the people had to kick
their heels outside until the operation of sorting was
completed, springing joyously into life when the post-
master raucously called out names, signifying a letter,
postcard, parcel, or what not. In the course of ten
minutes the task was finished ; the waiting throng
melted away, and the postmaster was left alone in
solitary state, busily tying up the outgoing mail-bag,
for the train turns round and starts back to Edmonton
immediately. The excitement provoked by the arrival
of the "express " only lasted a few hours, and then the
people resumed their usual occupations.

Wolf Creek is a queer kind of town, and queer also
are its people. You may search the latest map, but
though you may find the creek, you will not find the town.
It does not exist. It is like its population — nomadic. It
belongs to the end-of-steel, and just goes along hand-
in-hand with it. It never gets left far behind ; it
never ventures far ahead. The end-of-steelers, as the
inhabitants of this curious colony are called, are a
strange race. They seem to delight in clinging to the
fringe of civilisation and hovering on the border of the
unknown country beyond ; to revel in roughing it ; to
make light of privation, living on those who are carry-
ing the bond of steel forward. They have just as
restless a disposition as the mechanical box of tricks
which lays the metals at the rate of four miles or more
a day. They pitch their tents here to-night ; in the
dawn of the following day they steal away, and pass
the night some miles farther on.

At first one wonders how these two or three hundred
people live. They seem to lead an aimless existence ;
to be devoid of all ambition or enterprise. You see
them on Sunday lounging about, killing time in gossip
or indulging in games of chance. There is no apparent

4 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

sign of activity about them. Yet on Monday morning
you will see scarcely a dozen men in the place. They
have all vanished as if swallowed up in the night. The
truth is, these men are born hustlers. There is always
a considerable amount of outside work to be obtained
round the railhead, and it is here that these roaming
spirits carve out their fortunes. For instance, although
the end-of -steel may be here, the preparation of the
permanent way is proceeding for fifty or a hundred
miles ahead. The men engaged on this work must
be tended, must be kept supplied with provisions, con-
structional material, and a thousand and one other
things. All the traffic has to be maintained over a
rude highway, cut and hacked through the wilderness,
and the end-of-steelers are those who engage in this
service. The colony is built up for the most part of
freighters who have advanced right across the Dominion
with the iron road. Before the advent of this means
of transportation the freighter plied a thriving trade.
Less than forty years ago he used to toil over three
thousand miles to carry provisions and so forth from
Montreal to Vancouver. They were the good old days,
and many a pioneer shakes his head sadly when you
recall them to his mind. Then the freighter's calling
was worth following ; no matter if it did entail con-
siderable hardship and peril, the pay was high. Now,
the competition is so keen that he has to lead a dog's
life, to toil from misty morn to dewy eve to earn a
miserable pittance.

The packer is a consort of the freighter in the end-
of-steel town. When a railway is being pushed through
a new country such as the great North-West, commerce
follows hard on the heels of the track-layer, and is
continually endeavouring to get ahead. Mining sur-
veyors, land agents, railway engineers, and such-like,
crowd to the end-of-steel , and thence make lengthy
excursions into the country on either side. As travel

THE **END.OF.STEEL TOWN" 5

in such districts is only possible with a pack-horse,
the demand for animals accustomed to the bush is
continuous and heavy. A young fellow of a roving
disposition, with a little capital which he can invest in
horseflesh of the right kind, can always make a good
thing round the railhead. He lets his horses out on
hire at four shillings per day, the hirers taking all risk,
and if he is a sharp fellow he can be sure of earning
a dollar a day per head for the whole of his stock for
the best part of the year. The feeding bill during this
period is eliminated, as the animals are merely turned
loose to graze. His only out-of-pocket expenses are
feeding during the winter, which comes out at about
ten dollars, or a couple of pounds, per head for the
whole period of enforced idleness.

A youth to whom the open air appeals, who delights
in the atmosphere of adventure, even if blessed with
no capital can get a good start when he has mastered
the art of packing a horse and throwing the diamond
hitch, more especially if he is at all good at cooking.
He can make his eight shillings a day accompanying the
pack train in the role of cook and packer, and as he
is put to no expense during the time he is out on the
trail, being fed by the party engaging the horses, he
soon finds himself with a comfortable little nest-egg.

The packer's calling, with all its hard work and
rough life, is not to be despised by any means, as is
evidenced by the calibre of the men I met. One was
the son of a well-ktiown bishop ; another was the heir
to a British earldom ; the father of a third was a com-
mercial magnate in London, but this youth despised
the city life and office routine, so here he was in the
wilderness of the West. Such men make money easily,
and it must be confessed that the majority spend it
easily ; thrift to them is an unknown attribute. When
they come in from a long journey, and draw their
"wad," they make quick tracks for Edmonton for a

6 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

"high old time," run through their resources, and then
come back with an empty pocket to make another
excursion into the wilds.

When the track-layer is arrested in its advance by
some untoward obstacle, then the end-of -steel town
shakes down for a while in one spot. It was so at
this point. The broad, tumultuous McLeod Eiver, and
its turbulent tributary Wolf Creek, disputed the pro-
gress of the bands of steel. Two heavy bridges were
necessary ; and you cannot set a few hundred tons of
steel in position in one day. Consequently the track-
layer was pushed unceremoniously into a siding, and
the work of spanning the two waterways taken firmly
in hand. When this task would be finished only the
engineers could guess, but the little community hanging
on the track-layer's flanks realised that a delay of some
months was inevitable. So they curbed their roving
spirits as best they could for a time, and sat down
expectant.

When I reached Wolf Creek it had been waiting
some months, and as a result had assumed some
semblance of permanency. Log shacks had been run
up in all directions, just how and where their owners
felt disposed to erect a more comfortable domicile than
a tent could offer, though there were many white
canvas homes still in existence. There was no attempt
at symmetrical or methodical town-planning. It was
as if a jumble of odd-shaped shacks had been thrown
into a sieve and had fallen through the meshes, sticking
just where they fell. There was a livery stable, there
were two or three restaurants where you could get a
plainly-cooked square meal for a couple of shillings, a
pool room, a brace of stores, and other evidences of
commercial and social activity. I had come through
towns on the prairie which were neither so big nor so
prosperous and established as this outpost of civilisation.
But the look of permanency was all purely superficial.

^%:.:.

H

THE "END-OF-STEEL TOWN" 7

The one absorbing topic of conversation was the approxi-
mate date when the railhead would move forward.

Twenty years ago the end-of-steel town in North
America was regarded with dread by the authorities,
for it was always a hot-bed of lawlessness and crime.
Every tent, shack and hut housed some human vulture
of either sex, ready to rob the navvy of his hard-earned
money ; while murder was considered no more serious
than rifling a chicken-roost. The gambling-hell pro-
voked many a fatal quarrel ; the revolver was in more
request than the lead pencil. The dancing-hall, with
its gaily caparisoned terpsichorean "exponents," enticed
the steadier-going workman who abhorred gambling, and
pitched him downhill into the saloon, where the dregs
of the distilleries finished him up. Every form of vice
and debauchery was rife. Canada had one experience
of this evil, and made firm resolution that such a
community should never flourish unchecked again. The
consequence is that although the end-of-steel town is
still provocative of much anxiety to the authorities,
it is always held in hand — the machinery of the law
is ample to cope with any situation that may arise.

In the first place, legislation enacts that no alcoholic
liquor is to be sold within a certain distance of a
public work, such as the building of a railway; the
workman is debarred from intoxicants as rigorously as
the Indian. The gambling-hell and all other forms of
dubious amusement are tabooed. It seems rather hard
that a navvy should be denied a glass of ale when he
has finished his day's work ; but prevention is better
than cure. "No drink, no crime," say the authorities;
and experience proves them to be correct. The upshot
is that there is an entire absence of disorder at the end-
of-steel to-day ; the camps are models of sobriety ; the
men are healthier, their moral — and here I speak of the
lower classes of Europeans who migrate to Canada
— is higher than before they came. Nine out of ten

8 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

men can point to a nice-sized nest-egg, the accumulated
reward for the sweat of their brow. Of course there
is no curbing some spirits. If a man is determined "to
go on the jag " he will do so. Ko power on earth can
stop him, even if he has to make a journey of a
hundred or more miles to gratify his desires. He does
it once ; he does it twice ; then probably he reflects ,
and will turn over a new leaf. He finds that the game
is not worth the candle, and consequently settles down
and becomes a respectable member of the community.

Yet this proscription of alcohol by the authorities
has, in a way, defeated its own object. The men,
being denied what may be best described as legal
alcohol, resort to anything that is a more or less efficient
substitute. The redskin found this out. He, as
is well known, must not be served with whisky or
any other alcoholic liquor properly so called. Yet what
is the result? The prohibited have ascertained that
there are innumerable commodities on the market, under
other guises, which are more potent in their effect
than a straightforward alcoholic beverage. Red ink
is one article you must keep out of the men's way ;
they will swallow it with avidity, for it contains a
good percentage of low-grade alcohol. Another popular
refreshment is lemon-extract, such as the housewife
utilises for the flavouring of table delicacies ! But the
drink par excellence and in greatest demand is a certain
patent medicine. This is as common in the end-
of-steel town and among the construction camps as
whisky-and-soda is in London, and its effects are far
worse, inasmuch as the preparation contains 80 per
cent, of pure alcohol. A certain flavouring extract is
even a greater offender in this respect, for the alcohol
percentage is about 95 per cent. The workmen and
Indians drink it like water, freely paying twelve shillings,
and in some cases a sovereign, for a bottle of the
apparently harmless flavouring concoction which in the

THE "END-OF-STEEL TOWN" 9

city costs a shilling. In fact, the workmen and Indians
are open to drink any patent medicine that has alcohol
as its basis.

Then the lower members of the end-of-steel com-
munity concoct their own liquors and vend them in a
clandestine manner. This illicit establishment has the
illusory name of "Blind Pig." Here, if the proprietor is
well favoured by fortune, and your credentials as to
not being a spy are satisfactory, you can secure a
thimbleful of a well-known Irish or Scotch brand of
whisky for a shilling, or a bottle from ten shillings
upwards. A bottle which we obtained cost us 12s. 6d.
If the owner cannot smuggle in the genuine article
he has no compunction in making up a concoction
which is colloquially known as "rock-cut." It is more
potent than the famous stogies which Mark Twain
was accustomed to present to his visitors. It is brewed
from dried peaches, apples or other fruits, which are
stewed for a prolonged period with sugar, and the drained
liquor is soused heavily with tobacco juice, opium or
some other powerful narcotic, producing a most diabolical
intoxicating drink, the effects of which are terrible.

I had one experience of it — that was sufficient for a
lifetime. Within ten minutes of swallowing the liquor
every part of the human engine sprang into active
revolt. My head spun round faster than any teetotum
yet designed, throbbed like a steam-hammer, and felt
as if it were bursting in all directions. The abdominal
muscles were contracted to the uttermost limit, while
the whole frame vibrated with an intense chilling sen-
sation. One could not walk ; the limbs were as if
paralysed, and one simply blundered and groped along.
Some days elapsed before the effects of that glass of
liquor wore off, and ever after, until we got over the
confines of the "dry district," any bottle of a known
brand, the seals of which bore the slightest trace of
having been tampered with, was left severely alone.

lo THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

for he who drives the "BUnd Pig" has no scruples in
making his poison take the place of any brand of liquor,
whether it be whisky, brandy or rum. Yet these men
in the woods swallow it like water, and reck not of
what they may suffer.

The brewer of the "rock-cut" plies his nefarious
calling to distinct personal profit, until the strong arm
of the law swings down on him, smashing his illicit
still, and mulcting him to the tune of £10 for the first
offence. The vendor of flavouring extracts and patent
medicines, however, escapes scot free, as these concen-
trated alcohols are recognised by the law, because of
the labels, as commodities of culinary and therapeutic
value, notwithstanding their higher percentage of pure
alcohol. One man we met boasted that he had sold
six dozen bottles of extract, which cost him a shilling
apiece, to the Indians for 12s. 6d. per bottle. Judg-
ing from the behaviour of that band of natives which
we met, their crazy dancing, wild shrieks, howls, and
general indications of mad intoxication, this extract could
beat whisky to fits in giving a man a "jag."

As we did not intend to start out on the trail until
the Monday morning, we spent the day wandering
around the country. The broken, serrated humps of the
foothills of the Kocky Mountains, garbed from top to
bottom in forest, stretched from the west to the north.
The expanse between rolled away gently in a mass of
dark green. Here and there columns of blue smoke
could be observed curling lazily skywards, betraying
the activity of some homesteader clearing his land. The
air was bracing, for Wolf Creek rests at an altitude of
2,700 feet, and the hot blasts of summer were tempered
by the cooling currents blowing off the ice-capped Eockies
beyond the horizon.

The constructional engineers' locomotive was standing
beside our Pullman, and the driver lapsed into con-
versation. But the topic was the eternal one that is

THE "END-OF-STEEL TOWN" n

discussed throughout Canada and America — the quest for
the Almighty Dollar. Every man you meet is ready
to canvass some proposition or to propound some scheme
for turning vv'ords and deeds into money. I thought I
should escape it when civilisation was all but left behind.
But no ! Here every man was infected with the same
fever. The engine-driver's particular malady was town-
sites. He had bought some plots in a new town for
^20 or £25 apiece, and had been offered double that
figure. Should he accept or hold on? — that was the
question as it appealed to him. In another deal he
had "cleaned up" £100 in one case, while a third
represented a clear profit of over £90. It says much
for the thrift of the man that he could go out into the
open market and purchase land in this manner. He was
as keen a speculator as your Stock Exchange plunger.
Certainly the opportunities of making money in Canada
quickly are unique, and it is astonishing the class of
men who venture into this maelstrom. "Make or
break " is the average Canadian's motto, or, as one
reckless whole-hogger put it, "I'll either be a million-
aire or a jail-bird." I afterwards met a train conductor
who had speculated in land, and had amassed sufficient
capital to ensure a certain comfortable income. He
was seriously debating the question of throwing up
the New World and coming to England to live in
retirement.

Land is the great gamble throughout Canada, and
fortunes are being piled up in this manner every day.
Town-sites are the most tempting prizes, though good
farming country will always attract. But the former
is that with the greater number of adherents. When a
town is on the boom, the prices that are paid for sites
are tremendous.

To argue against such speculation is useless. They
tell you that the whole country from Halifax to Prince
Eupert is booming, that prices of land are going up —

12 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

up — up. In this statement they are certainly correct,
and they can enumerate cases of the sudden accumula-
tion of wealth through the sale of land. Take Saskatoon,
for instance. In 1901 it boasted only 113 inhabitants
all told; to-day it has over 14,000. In the early days
one man bought two adjacent plots on a corner. He
built his own shop on the inner plot, leaving the comer
space vacant, since such sites always command the
readiest sale and fetch the highest prices. When Saska-
toon boomed, a commercial house cast envious eyes on
this corner vacancy, and the upshot of the deliberations
was that the owner, who had bought it for about £50,
sold it for iG12,000! And it is the same all through the
West.

More amusing, perhaps, was the case of Edson. My
engine-driver was particularly anxious about its future.
His personal impression was that a big boom was in
prospect. He had acquired some plots and was resolved
to "hang on " to them, for the time being at all events.
The men working on the railway have seen the rise
of these western towns and the way property has
soared in value. So they know what they are talking
about, and, what is more, being on the spot, building
the railway that is to make the future of a new com-
munity, they are able to profit to advantage. Shortly
after starting on our overland journey we were destined
to see this town-that-is-to-be in its very first stages,
since Edson lay directly on our path.

Presently my engine-driver acquaintance had to go
to the scene of the bridge-building operations. With
his hand on the regulator he sung out, "Care to go
right to the end-of-steel and see the bridge going up?
They are hard at it. It's Sunday, I know, but that
don't stop 'em from raking in the dollars. And I can
promise you a magnificent view in the bargain."

I accepted his offer with alacrity and sprang on the
engine. Like all such locomotives employed for the

THE "END-OF-STEEL TOWN" 13

rough-and-tumble of railway construction, where knocks
are hard and frequent, it was a decrepit mass of moving
steel, wheezy and rattling in all its bones. But it
serves its purpose, and though apparently in the last
stages of senile debility, was still good for many years
to come. We moved, or rather rocked and lurched,
along a mile of track still under construction, with the
rails all sixes and sevens, and indifferently secured to
the crazy sleepers beneath. After crawling over the
spidery wooden trestle temporarily providing commu-
nication across Wolf Creek, we pulled through a cutting
on to the eastern bank of the McLeod Eiver.

A terrific din assailed the ears, reverberating strangely
in the otherwise silent river valley. The McLeod
is a typical Canadian waterway, and offers a striking
instance of the powerful erosion of soft friable soil and
rock that has taken place during the flight of ages.
The river is no more than 200 feet broad at this point,
but has cut such a deep channel as to necessitate the
erection of a massive steel bridge 600 feet in length,
with a height of 180 feet in the centre. The "bridge
flies" were toiling as if for their dear lives, setting and
bolting the ponderous ribs of the metallic structure
together, for the engineers had ^et down a time by
which it was to be completed, and things were cut so
fine that no stoppage could be made, even for Sunday.
The work, when I arrived, was half finished, the men
being engaged in throwing out a span from a massive
lofty concrete pier that had been erected on an island
in mid-stream. An engine slowly backed a train loaded
with the weighty dissected limbs of metal. A crane
dipped its head and grabbed the foremost piece, whipped
it into the air, and, firmly holding it in its mouth,
rapidly ran out to the end of the bridge, where the
human flies, working in mid-air and clinging to flimsy
footholds, seized it, guided it to its position, and then
rapidly slipped in bolts which secured it to its fellow

14 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

for the time being. Another crane was laboriously
stooping over the side of the bridge picking up huge
baulks of timber from the river bank 120 feet below,
whizzing them up through the air, and gently setting
them down here or there to assist in the erection work.
On precarious platforms boys were strenuously puffing
portable furnaces with bellows, in which the rivets were
being heated. When a bolt was white hot a man
grabbed it with his tongs, and with a " Heigh-ho " sent
it flying through the air to another boy standing on a
swinging plank some twelve or sixteen feet above. This
boy deftly caught the hissing heated rivet in a bucket,
swung it round to another workman standing near by,
who in turn seized the sizzling rivet once more in a
pair of tongs and slipped it into its appointed hole,
when another " fly " drove it home safe and sound with
a few raps of the pneumatic riveter.

Watching a bridge grow in this manner is intensely
fascinating. The men swing from point to point of
the structure like monkeys, and, heedless of the raging
torrent below, walk narrow planks slung in mid-air, and
which swing with their movement. Their temerity
makes you shudder; the height at which they are
working produces a feeling of nauseating giddiness.
When one of the men invited me to come out on the
outermost rib and watch another rib being set in position
I politely declined. "What! Give you a cold shiver
down your backbone?" he grinned. "Oh, you'd soon
get accustomed to it." But I was not to be persuaded.

Climbing the bank of the cutting through which the
bridge is approached, I looked towards the west and
beheld one of the most magnificent panoramas it is
possible to conceive. Stretching away from my feet
in gentle undulations was an endless ocean of forest.
It was trees, trees, trees on every side, with their
sombre, majestic tone of dark green. Here and there
the prevailing colour was splashed with brown where

THE *• END-OF-STEEL TOWN" 15

a bush fire had ravaged the vegetation recently, scorch-
ing the life from the tree-tops and branches ; or a blaze
of purple as the setting sun glinted upon the tall gaunt
dead trunks, the sad monuments of a bygone conflagra-
tion, whose barkless sides had become silvered under
the agency of wind and weather ; or a ragged blot of
vivid emerald green where luxuriantly growing bush was
striving to conceal the devastation wrought by the enemy
of the forest. Winding to and fro through the sea of
colour like a ribbon was the placid blue water of the
McLeod River on its way to the slopes of the divide.

This ocean of vegetation stretched right away to
the horizon, over which hung a thin streak of cloud,
like a blanket of mist reflecting a golden sheen in the
sunshine. But above this film could be seen a more
impressive spectacle. Through the haze could be faintly
descried, rising spectre-like, the ice-crowned points of
the Eockies, whose glaciers, caught in the rays of the
sun, sparkled like gigantic diamonds slung in mid-air
a hundred miles away. The row of scintillating pinnacles
runs diagonally to the route of the line, which, in order
to preserve the requisite easy grade, keeps to the crest
of the rolling hills, so that west-bound travellers over
this system will have a magnificent vista for some
three hours before they dash through the grim portals
and plunge into the welter of eternally white-mantled
peaks. This view at sunset afforded one a spectacle
difficult to parallel. The sun sank lower and lower, the
mists of waning day gathered over the sinuous streak
of the river, blotting out the country beneath, while the
sky was transformed into a mass of glowing fire, causing
the ice-caps, glittering with ever-changing hues, to stand
out in vivid contrast in mid-air, like some celestial
wonder. At last the hill-tops faded gradually from view,
and the mass of snow and ice suddenly changed to an
intensely cold blue in the darkening mantle of night.

CHAPTER II
Among the Money-Makers in the Bush

Striking Camp — The Pack-Train — Horses and their Leaders — Pioneers —
A Profit of 2,000 per cent.— Big Eddy— Bog-holes and Creeks-
A Teamster's Life — Our First Night Out — In an Engineer's Camp —
" Canned Music " — Cooks in Request in the Bush — The "Station Man "
— Payment by Results — Openings for Engineers — A Town in the
" is-to-be " Stage — Rapid Rises in Land Values.

It was a raw, damp morning. The clouds hung low
and threatening. The distant wavy line of the horizon
stood out black against the grey of the heavens. The
soddened soil — for it had been raining heavily through
the night — threw back a dismal reeking moisture which
penetrated the thick woollen clothes we had donned
ready for "roughing it."

The camp was in the throes of activity. The per-
sonal impedimenta, cooking utensils, bedding and pro-
visions had been so divided up that no animal was
called upon to carry a load exceeding 200 lb. The
last diamond hitch was thrown, the bell boy sprang
astride, and with a seductive whistle induced the leading
pack-horse to trot along in his wake. The tethers of
the saddle horses were slipped, and the train of the
bush moved off.

The camp was at the top of the eastern bank of the
McLeod river, just below the confluence with Wolf
Creek. The descent, a matter of 300 feet, was steep,
and the soft soil was as slippery as ice under the action
of the rain, so the horses either tobogganed down on
their haunches or sawed the decline. At the bottom,
owing to the depth and swift current of the water, a

l6

MONEY-MAKERS IN THE BUSH 17

ferry had been provided to maintain communication
with the opposite bank until the railway bridge was
finished.

As we serpentined up the opposite bank we gave
a last peep at Wolf Creek, with its shacks and tents
straggling all over the countryside. Scarcely a sign of
life was to be seen, for the end-of-steelers had dipped
into the turmoil of labour for another six days. We
could just descry a small crowd around the post office,
the rendezvous for gossip and conversation. Then the
trail bent sharply at a right angle, and the bush
blotted Wolf Creek out for all time so far as we were
concerned.

A pack-train is at the same time the easiest and
the most difficult vehicle to drive. For the first few
days out everything is sixes and sevens. The animals
are fresh and restive, darting every few minutes into
the bush, causing the packs to get shifted and slackened
by consrtant violent contact with trees and bushes.
Delay after delay occurs while the loads are tightened
up, and the frisky animals provoke the packer to
violence. In the course of a day or so, however, the
animals chum up, and take up their positions in the
train, and this order they will maintain till their
journey's end. Woe betide an animal which attempts
to get out of his rotation: his colleagues will bite,
kick, and worry him until he returns to his settled
position. It is curious how a bunch of thirty horses
will resolve themselves into small cliques, will keep
constantly together, and will act in concert to repel
an intruder. One horse will always assume the lead,
and will not relinquish the van in any circumstances
whatever, not hesitating to defend his post with teeth
and heels.

The country through which the trail wound its tor-
tuous way w^as mostly covered with thick bush, in which
young jack pine and poplar flourished luxuriantly, the
C

i8 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

latter testifying to the richness of the soil. It is an
axiom among experienced Canadian agriculturists that
where poplar thrives any produce will grow, and land
covered with this tree, no matter how dense and appal-
ling the task may appear, will pay to clear. Jack pine,
on the other hand, has a preference for gravel, but
I saw on frequent occasions large tracts of this tree
growing in first-class soil. Still, taken on the whole,
the Canadian aphorism is the best guide when cruising
about for arable land in a scrub-covered country. The
whole of the territory we were traversing had been
devastated by a bush fire some years ago, as was
evident from the outlines of the thick trunks rotting
on the ground in a bed of moss, building up that thick
vegetable top soil which brings such joy to the farmer
and so many dollars to his banking account.

The settler, however, had not invaded this district
very extensively ; it is the last corner of Alberta which
will be turned from forest into wheat- or vegetable-
growing expanses. Out on the prairies there is still
plenty of perfectly open land, which can be instantly
brought into a revenue-producing condition. It is on
such land that the plough can work in the spring and
the harvester in the autumn of the first year. One
cannot blame the canny farmer for preferring such
conditions, for the prairie provides the shortest and
easiest road to affluence.

Occasionally, however, we met an energetic young
man with his wife and family who had decided to make
a new home in the wilderness. The prospect of awful
isolation had no terrors for them ; the arduousness of
clearing was no deterrent. The prairie schooners — the
capacious box-like wagons mounted on four wheels and
drawn by two horses — contained the whole of their
worldly goods and chattels, as well as agricultural im-
plements, and they were crawling along slowly to the
accompaniment of the drivers' lusty singing.

MONEY-MAKERS IN THE BUSH 19

These men do not know what trouble or worry is :
they are too intoxicated with enthusiasm and buoyant
optimism. These are the men who are opening up the
North-West of Canada, and they are the type of workers
the Dominion wants to-day. They go on to the land
with practically no cash resources, but from the time
the first tree is felled their possession enhances in
value, and when the railway comes along, bringing in
its train an endless stream of agriculturists with money
in their pockets searching for partly developed farms,
then these pioneers make money. They may have to
wait years for a purchaser, or perhaps only a few
months ; but sooner or later the buyer comes their way
and enables them to make a profit of anything from
2,000 per cent, upwards on their original investment.

The country is gently rolling for the whole of the
distance between Wolf Creek and the foothills of the
Rockies, being somewhat in the form of high, wide
ridges, separated from one another by yawning val-
leys, through which broad rivers make their way.
These waterways in the distant past, wider and more
formidable than they are to-day, brought down rich
deposits from the mountains, and shed this alluvium
in thick layers for a great distance on either side
of the present channels. But they will shrink still
more as the country is opened up ; the moisture which
now merely drains into the rivers will be sucked up by
the roots of the thirsty crops. The valleys for the
most part have steep slopes, terraces as it were, on
which fruit cultivation should be highly profitable. The
stretches on the river banks make splendid meadow-
land for grazing, but the soil is so rich and nutritious
that it should be utilised for "truck" gardening.
There is not sufficient prevailing level to render it
suitable for wheat-growing. But cereals are not the
most remunerative form of farming in all parts of
Canada. Stock raising, especially of swine and cattle,

20 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

is far more promising, as the demands, not only of
Canada, but of other countries, are far ahead of the
supply.

We were not yet on the "lonely trail." Twenty-two
miles ahead of us, at Big Eddy, a huge timber trestle
was going up, and as contracts and time wait for no
man, all material had to be transported to the site by
road. A continuous chain of wagons hauled by horses
or oxen and loaded with heavy baulks of timber, some
measuring as much as 60 feet in length by 10 inches
or so in breadth and thickness, was toiling laboriously
westwards, while an equally interminable procession of
empty vehicles was coming east. There is no rule of
the road. Indeed, it is not wide enough to admit of
any such observance of etiquette, for the trees have
been cleared on either side of the trail only sufficiently
to admit of the passage of a pair of wheels. A laden
and an empty vehicle travelling in opposite directions
meet. The empty one blunders straight into the bush
to permit the other to pass. If it gets stuck in the
process — well, the driver has to get out of the hole as
best he can. The trail was churned up into a thick
mud, which at places was two feet or so in depth, and
as sticky as treacle. And these bog-holes are fiendish
traps. The unsuspecting laden vehicle lurches forward ;
then there is a wicked squelch as the wagon tilts over
dangerously to one side, burying the wheel to the axle.
The driver flogs and urges his beasts to greater effort.
The frightened animals tug and pull in desperation,
assisted by the driver and his mate, standing knee-deep
in the slime, with shoulders to the wheels, and thus
laboriously the wagon is extricated from the quagmire.

But the negotiation of the creeks is the severest
tax on teamster and team alike. The drop on the one
side is often so steep that the wheels have to be
locked, and the wagon steadied in its descent by
a rope snubbed round a tree-stump. At the critical

MONEY-MAKERS IN THE BUSH 21

moment the wheels are released and the rope uncoupled,
so that the animals may have the advantage of a little
declivity to rush the creek and gain the opposite bank.

"Kow then! Git up! Whoo ! Up! Up!" The
driver savagely slashes his team; they give a plunge
forward, the wagon creaks and rolls, and with suddenly
acquired impetus it flops into the water, the team
straining every muscle to breaking point in order to
reach the other side before momentum is lost. Some-
times the wagon will roll drunkenly through the water
and up the opposite bank with the force of a battering
ram ; more often, as it drops into the creek bed, the
latter sucks it down and it is tightly embraced in
the soft ooze. Then the men have to wade possibly
up to their thighs, prising, levering, and using evei-y
artifice to get the vehicle out of the hole. In one case
where a "rush " through a creek twelve feet wide had
failed, I saw combined animal and manual labour
force the laden wagon forward two feet in half an
hour ! If another wagon is coming along its team will
be unhitched and coupled up to the foremost vehicle to
haul it out of the morass, a similar compliment being
paid to the second w^agon. There has to be consider-
able mutual assistance to get wagons over such roads
as these, and every "stall in the mud" only makes
the "bad place" worse from the struggle that takes
place.

The teamster's lot is to be pitied indeed. He is
the epitome of "roughing it." He toils from dawn to
twilight, with only brief cessations for his meals. In
this particular instance the material had to be hauled
twenty-two miles, and for the round journey of forty-
four miles the man received £3. Out of this he had
to pay a labourer, who perchance received 8s. a day
together with his food, the teamster providing the
trolley and team. By dint of hard work he could cover
the forty-four miles in a little less than three days,

22 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

if the weather and roads were kind to him. On his
wagon he carried a bale or two of hay for his animals,
and a small box filled with flour, sugar, pork and
beans (the staple diet of the bush), tea, milk, and a
few tins of fruit. At twelve they pulled up alongside
the trail, the horses were baited, a fire was lighted,
and a hastily prepared meal hurriedly swallowed. Off
again immediately, and no further stop until approach-
ing dark, when the wagon was hauled a bit on one
side, the horses were unhitched, hobbled and turned loose
in the bush to graze, camp was pitched and a roaring
camp-fire kindled. After supper, more often taken only
in the light of the camp-fire, the two men stretched
a canvas sheet above them if it were wet, curled up in
their blankets, and went to sleep thol'oughly worn out.
If the weather were fine the "fly" was dispensed with,
the men slumbering in the open beneath the star-
spangled canopy. At sunrise they were astir, and while
one tramped off through the reeking wet bush in search
of the horses, the other prepared breakfast. When
the horses were brought in, the matutinal meal was
hastily disposed of, the horses were hitched to the wagon,
and the road was struck once more.

Such is the round , day after day ; and the teamster
may be able to scrape together a net profit of about
£S a week. It is a life with no recreation ; nothing to
vary the monotony. No wonder the men cultivate the
boorishness of a bear, the hang-dog expression of a
jaded cab-horse, and the conversation of a deaf-mute.
But they are worshipping the Almighty Dollar, and
that in the North American Continent to-day is the
chief aim of existence.

As we pushed farther and farther into the bush the
trail became heavier and heavier. The heavens opened
and let down the rain in bucketfuls. Our slickers pro-
tected the upper parts of our bodies, but our boots
became water- logged , and the brushing of the branches

MONEY-MAKERS IN THE BUSH 23

overhanging the trail whipped the face like a lash. The
cavalcade soon assumed an appearance of profound
dejection. Conversation, which for an hour past had
been flagging, now ceased altogether. Each of us was
wrapped in his own thoughts, momentarily fearing a
sudden introduction to Mother Earth, when the horse
might flop into a concealed mud-hole and throw you
over the pommel of the saddle.

The horses also toiled along with diminished pace,
as if they, too, had contracted a "fit of the blues."
If you endeavoured to shake off the melancholia by
whistling, your impromptu siffling had an uncanny tone,
while to sing was to encourage the woods to throw back
your sounds in hollow mockery of your discomfort.
Even the packers abandoned invective and rode along
in moody silence. The feeling that your couch would
be the cold, wet ground or a semi-quagmire did not
inspire any pleasantries. If you attempted to liven up
things by cracking a joke you were regarded with a
scowl by your companions. The best thing in such
circum'stances is to ride along wrapped in your own
thoughts.

It had been an'anged that the first night out should
be spent at one of the Grand Trunk Pacific resident
engineer's camps, the day's ride being made short pur-
posely to get things into ship-shape. We had come up
as far as Wolf Creek with the young engineer, and
he had cordially invited us to partake of the camp's
hospitality. We were not a bit sorry when at last the
strains of a phonograph, grinding out "Put on your
old grey bonnet," struck our ears, for we had been in
the saddle a matter of four hours, and our anatomy,
unaccustomed to maintaining its equilibrium on the
saw-edge of a pack-horse's backbone, bore painful
testimony to the ordeal.

These camps are distributed along the grade at
intervals of about twelve miles, the duties of the en-

24 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

gineer being to supervise construction, and to check the
work as it is carried out. Each camp numbers about
half a dozen young fellows all told, comprising chain-
men, rod-man, transit-man, cook, and possibly one or
two other supernumeraries. It is a somewhat lonely
life, since the camps are ahead of construction, so that
the little colony is entirely dependent upon its own
resources for amusement and the profitable utilisation of
leisure moments. "Canned music" offers a staple form
of recreation, and keeps the party in touch with the
musical world and the latest triumphs of the vaudeville
art. The phonograph is started up about six o'clock
in the evening, and is kept continuously at it until
bed-time, only to be resumed directly the gong awakes
the sleepers in the morning, and to be kept churning
music until the party starts off for the day's labours. A
musically accompanied shave, toilet and breakfast is
somewhat novel, but after we had passed the third camp
we all keenly anticipated the time when we should be
beyond the strains of this concentrated music-hall,
orchestra and concert platform.

The little colony at this camp were indeed industrious.
In their spare time a lofty tower for experiments in wire-
less telegraphy had been built up ; a stream just below
was being dammed, a primitive pile-driver having been
fashioned for driving logs of wood to form a barrage,
for securing sufficient head of water to run a small water
turbine whereby the camp could be electrically lighted ;
while a small cleared patch in the bush testified that
horticulture had one or two enterprising exponents.

The members of the camp are for the most part
young fellows to whom the lonely life appeals; while,
owing to the absence of inducements to spend, they
unavoidably save their money. They make their quarters
snug and comfortable, and their employers see to it that
no complaint can be offered in regard to the commissariat
or the cook. I can vouchsafe for this fact from personal

MONEY-MAKERS IN THE BUSH 25

experience. In these resident engineers' camps I secured
a far greater variety of more nourishing food, more
appetisingly and better prepared, than I had enjoyed in
a first-class Canadian hotel. Certainly many of the
latter establishments could not point to such a master-
hand in their kitchens as these camps possessed. The
oooks, for the most part, I found to be young fellows
from home, who like the life, and consider a monthly
salai-y of £12 clear a good wage. And it may be pointed
out that this rate is not confined to the railways. Mining,
lumbering, prospecting — in fact, all the camps out in the
West pay this figure, and it is not a bit difficult for a
young man to save £120 or more a year, for his
requirements in the way of clothing are obviously
very limited. One young man whom I met in the wilds,
presiding over the kitchen of a mining camp, stated that
he had left London twelve years before, had been in
steady employment ever since he reached the Far West,
and had contrived to bank over £1,000 as the reward of
his culinary skill. The demand for good cooks in the
West is steady, for the employers know that nowadays
the skill of the chef has much to do with the content-
ment of a small community in the wilds, a satisfied
"little Mary" more than counteracting innumerable
irksome deficiences.

In the railway camp no complaint on the side of
insufficiency of food could be raised. We sat down to
an evening meal. There was infinite variety, and every-
thing in plenty. Although extensive resort has neces-
sarily to be made to canned foods, an expert cook can
ring the changes pretty frequently thereon, while if he
is a good pastry hand and can concoct delectable dainties
in the way of pies — well, his comrades will forgive his
lack of prowess in the preparation of other dishes, for
to the Westerner, pie, whether it be mince, pumpkin,
raisin, pineapple, peach, or anything else, is the great
gustatory delight.

26 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

Railway construction was in active progress near the
camp, and here the resident engineer introduced me
to a phase of hfe which is not seen outside America,
and is depicted to its fullest degree in Canada. This
was the "station man" — not the superintendent of an
aggregation of buildings and administrative machinery,
but what may be perhaps best described as the very
bottom rung of the ladder of success.

A railway contract is divided into stretches of 100
feet each. The basis of the contract is payment by the
cubic yard, the survey plans and specifications showing
how much earth it is necessary to remove from this
point to be dumped at that. Instead of engaging a
large staff of navvies working at so much an hour, the
contractor encourages the labourer to become his own
master. A man can take over a "station," as a length
of 100 feet is called, and is paid so much a yard for
excavation ; this sum is, of course, less than that which
the contractor receives, the latter's profit being repre-
sented by the difference between the two amounts. The
scale of payment varies according to the nature of the
earth worked : so much for ordinary earth, or "common "
as it is called, a little more for loose rock, and a
higher rate for solid rock. The last, as it involves
drilling and blasting, is generally taken over by the
most expert hands, but anyone who can wield a
pick and shovel is competent to tackle the other classifi-
cations.

Now, it is perfectly obvious that under this arrange-
ment the more work a man does the more he earns ;
his prosperity is governed entirely by his industry. On
this particular station it was mostly "common" and
loose rock. The sole tools required were pick, shovel,
crowbar, wheelbarrow, and one or two planks. The
station men I saw here were three burly Galicians,
raggedly clad — for any clothes suffice for this work — and
they were toiling like slaves. They had co-operated

MONEY-MAKERS IN THE BUSH 27

on the job, and were wrestling with "muskeg " — in other
words, swampy ground formed of water-logged, decaying
vegetable matter. They were up to their knees in a
viscous, black-looking slime, which had spattered them
from head to foot. In appearance they were more
disreputable than a mud-lark at home. But they were
cheery.

As I swung down into the cut and plodded through
the ooze with the resident they gave us a cheery hail,
but did not stop a second in their task.

"Say, what do you get for shifting this?"

"Twenty-two cents a yard."

That was practically elevenpence. It seemed small
enough pay, in all conscience, looking at it from the
uninitiated point of view.

"And what can you make a day?"

"All d'pen's upon th' time o' year. Th' longer th'
day th' more we can do."

"What are you making at the present moment?"

One of the trio paused and gave a sly look at the
resident, as if he might be giving himself away. Then,
as he resumed his labours, he blurted out:

"Well, the three o' us are cleaning up 35 dollars
a day."

The resident nodded affirmatively ; he knew by his
returns of excavation accomplished. I figured it out.
That meant excavating some 160 cubic yards, for which
they received, roughly, £1 between them — practically
47s. a day each.

"And how long do you put in to make that? "

"From kin to k'int. An' we stop for nothin'."

It certainly looked like it, for they never slackened
chopping out huge chunks of the sticky mass during
conversation. The resident explained that the collo-
quialism meant from dawn to dusk. It was now past
nine o'clock in the evening, and yet there were no
signs of cessation. Those three Galicians certainly

28 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

seemed bent on putting every minute of daylight to
profitable account.

Working under these conditions is somewhat of a
dog's life. The men are out on the job about four in
the morning and slog incessantly until seven, when
they make a short pause for breakfast. This is gulped
down, and they are at it again until the mid-day hour
compels another brief respite for a scanty meal. This
is quickly digested, and then ensues a straight toil until
six in the evening, when supper is disposed of, follow^ed
by a fourth spell of work till fading daylight compels
abandonment until dawn.

Such is the round, day in and day out, with Sunday
as the only break. The men live in httle rude shacks,
and the day of enforced idleness — from their point of
view — is spent in washing what clothes they require
and the performance of other domestic duties for the
ensuing week. Their food, though wholesome, is re-
duced to the minimum, pork and beans being the staple
diet, for these men have to board themselves, and con-
sequently they reduce living expenses to the minimum.
The work is hard, but it carries its own reward. They
only ply their calling during the summer months, when
the days are longest, and put in the other six months
on a homestead.

This is one way in which Canada is becoming peopled
with a solid backbone, for these men get their land
practically free, perform the necessary improvements
prescribed by the homestead law, and while the produce
on their farms is maturing they are earning from ;tlO
to £12 a week upwards. They carefully husband their
wages, and by the time they have secured the patent
for their farms are comfortably well off and have the
capital in hand for the purchase of agricultural imple-
ments and so forth.

Galicians and a few Irishmen form the station men
for the most part, especially where work is in "common."

MONEY-MAKERS IN THE BUSH 29

Scandinavians and Italians figure on the heavy rock
work, for they are born "rock-hogs," as the drillers and
blasters are called. The average navvy regards the
station man and his work with disdain, preferring to
toil for Jte a month all found, ignoring the fact that
the station man is on the way to become his own master.
Many railway sub-contractors of substance in Canada
to-day numbered a 100-foot length as their first start,
and had not a penny of capital to their name.

Canada offers a great field for the young engineer.
Wages are good and promotion is rapid, according to a
man's merit. There is many a youth in the Old Country
who, when he issues from his apprenticeship in civil
engineering, could "make good" in the West. The
British engineer is preferred, as he generally has a good
all-round knowledge, whereas the native railway engineer
is specialised in a single branch of his profession. As
a rule he has made his way up the ladder from the
humble position of axeman, lopping down trees for the
surveying party at £7 a month all found. The young
engineer from Britain, if he were given an axe with
which to start, would probably throw it down in disgust
and march off in high dudgeon, feeling that this was
a slur upon his abilities and a poor reward for his
apprenticeship. But he has got to learn how to wield
an axe, and he might just as well be paid for gaining
that knowledge as not. Next he will take the position
of rear chainman, walking over the tumbled country
with the 100-foot measuring length. The same wage,
£7 a month, will be the reward for this labour, and
then he will graduate to front chainman at £8 a
month, after which he will receive a slight increase in
salary to £9 a month as rodman.

If his brains warrant it, he will then make a big
jump, both in position and salary, to instrument-man,
entrusted with the transit and level, at £15 monthly.
This position achieved, and his skill being sufficiently

30 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

marked, he becomes resident engineer as soon as a
vacancy occurs. He will be responsible then for the
construction of a section of track varying from one to
twelve miles in length, according to its character and
situation, at an inclusive monthly wage of £25. His
next rise is to assistant divisional engineer, supervising
on the spot a whole section of line at £35 a month.
As divisional engineer he will command a salary of
£60 per mensem, and then his future rests in his own
hands.

This may seem a long ladder, but the rungs are not
very far apart, and energy and brains enable a capable
man to climb from axeman to resident engineer in two
or three years or so. The positions above are the plums
of the profession, and in view of the tremendous amount
of railway construction at present under way in Canada,
they are not difficult to pick up. The wonder is that
more British engineers do not turn their attention to
the Dominion. They are in urgent request, for it must
be confessed that their peculiar training renders them
more fit for responsible offices than the average Canadian
or American trained engineer, who is merely a cog-
wheel in the constructional machine. One contractor
put the matter very concisely to me, although he was
an American. "Experience has shown me that the
average British engineer has more knowledge of his
profession in one hand than a six-foot Yankee has in
the whole of his hide."

Apart from the railway construction — and it is mighty
fascinating to watch graders, steam-shovels and gun-
powder tearing out a path for the parallel lines of steel
— the most interesting spot was about eight miles west
of Wolf Creek. Here we pulled into the town of
Edson, or, rather, where Edson was planned to exist,
for it was then in the "is-to-be" stage, as the
Westerner puts it. Here we saw the foundations of a
typical Canadian Western town being laid. Imagine

MONEY-MAKERS IN THE BUSH 31

a stretch of densely wooded country, with the bush as
thick as the jungle, and about 20 feet or so in height.
A square mile of this is pegged off. The railway station
site is selected, and immediately opposite extends what
is to be eventually the principal thoroughfare. On
either side, at regular intervals, are run parallel roads
of uniform width. From each of these streets, at in-
tervals of 300 feet, transverse highways are driven at
right angles.

At the time we rode into Edson one or two of the
main thoroughfares had been defined, but the scrub had
been cleared only just widely enough to permit a wagon
to pass. As we looked down the main street, our view
was obstructed by an ugly square-shaped, black building.
We turned towards it, and found that it was the hotel !
Boniface was a Chinaman, and he had been the first
to reach the place, had run up a wooden building of
two floors, and had covered it all over externally with
tarred felt to keep out water and for warmth. We
could not see a soul in sight, and the ways and means
of poor Johnny's existence appeared extremely slender.
The interior was scrupulously clean, and the "ground
floor " tenant was ready to give you a good square meal
for two shillings, and to put you up for the same price
for a night !

"Yes, things are velly quiet just now. But I have
been velly busy."

"Busy?" We looked round at the undisturbed
isolation.

"Yes; ther have been velly manny men come round
to buy land."

We recalled our friend the engine-driver at Wolf
Creek. He had plunged here ; and the outlook was
about as dismal as one could wish. It appeared that
he might as well have thrown his money into Wolf
Creek as have put it into land here. Why, the place
was as quiet as a churchyard. One part of the town

32 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

was practically swamp or muskeg, and the rest was
covered with a dense tangle of rank vegetation.

But that Chinaman was perfectly correct. There
had been an invasion of the "town" by speculators.
The town-site is divided into lots of uniform size —
60 feet wide by 100 feet deep — and from what we
ascertained, some very lively speculating had been going
on in this out-of-the-way place. The railway company
had decided that Edson should be a divisional point —
such a town has a greater commercial importance than
the ordinary town — while the discovery of coal about
fifty miles distant had resulted in the survey of a line
linking the newly discovered collieries with the town.
A boom in land had consequently set in, and prices
ruled high.

One plot at the corner of Third Avenue had been
bought for £100, and had changed hands shortly after-
wards for £'340^a profit of 240 per cent. Several lots
which had cost originally £50 had changed hands at
£200 upwards ; another which had cost £500 had sold
for £760, and so on. The Chinaman was evidently well
posted up in what had been happening in this " is-to-be "
town, and his statements were confirmed when a little
later we succeeded in running an unostentatious indi-
vidual to earth, for he was the local land agent, and
up to his eyes in work.

"D'ye know," he blurted out, "that this town's goin'
to be a reg'lar hummer? I've some stunnin' lots going
cheap. Now's your chance. Come in and make a good
choice."

He had taken us for land purchasers. He seemed
highly mortified when we shook our heads negatively,
proof against his persuasions.

We struck through the bush to pick up the trail
once more, and every few yards we stumbled upon a
hidden pile of lumber, or into a clearing where a
building was to go up. In half a dozen places we found

j

MONEY-MAKERS IN THE BUSH 33

frame buildings either coraplete and occupied or nearly
80. We had thought the place deserted when we first
struck it, whereas the bush was hiding extraordinary
activity.

Three months later the boom in Edson went ahead
with a vengeance. Directly the railway metals arrived
at the front door, speculators, commercial ambassadors
and tradesmen swarmed in. The whole square mile
was stripped of bush, and left as clear as a cricket
ground. Miles of sidings were laid, and a healthy
timber colony sprang into existence, with all preliminary
arrangements completed for the raising of a first-class
permanent town. Such is the way in which Canada
is being opened up. Dense forest to-day, tents next
week, wooden frame-houses the following month, masonry
buildings a year later, a healthy town in five years,
and a full-blown hustling city in ten years, with tram-
ways, telephones, and what not. Within a quarter of
a century land grows so scarce and costly in the heart
of the centre that the sky-scraper has to be brought
into vogue.

It is not surprising that the Western public has
contracted a town-site speculating mania, for fortunes
are being made every day. The Canadian is the biggest
plunger you can find, and he plunges wildly, spreading
his net over a large area. He has the advantage of
being on the spot, and many of these landlords will
squat on their holdings waiting for buyers. As keen
as ferrets, they are able to follow developments closely,
and to benefit from every tit-bit of information which
can possibly enhance the value of their property. These
speculators buy heavily, as the lots are sold on easy
terms. A man stakes his whole on the first plunge,
expecting to have sold out before the second payment
becomes due. At any rate, very often he does not
know from where the money for the second instalment
is coming. True, the buyer becomes a Canadian free-

D

34 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

holder, but whether his acquisition is valuable or
really marketable he cannot tell. It may be worth less
than the value of the paper on which the title-deed is
written, and then ten years later suddenly leap into
first-class prominence and net him a small fortune.

CHAPTER III
Through the McLeod River Valley

Watching the Growth of a Timber Bridge — Bannock — Roving Horses —
A Lonely Grave in the Bush — How to Walk along a Trail — An Old-
Timer's Journey across the Continent — A Bush Hotel — Joe Brown
and His Catering Experiences — His Vigorous Welcome to an Old
Chum — A Hairbreadth Escape from Destruction — Succulent Pastur-
age—Bidding Adieu to the McLeod River.

It was our first night in camp. It had been raining
hard all the afternoon, and when we pulled into an
open space in the shadow of the huge timber trestle
that was going up over Sundance Creek we were a
sorry-looking party. But the evening meal revived our
depressed spirits, although "little Mary" resented the
rough treatment meted out to her with bannock, canned
beef, and other comestibles of the tinning factory. We
did not feel the effects immediately, but a few hours
later more than one set of digestive organs was in
active rebellion.

The erection of the massive timber structure whereby
the grade of the line was to be preserved over a yawning
depression through which flowed the McLeod river
was an operation of deep interest. We had passed
freighters toiling wearily along in the mud, slime and
water, with the massive baulks of wood, and here we
saw these squared tree-trunks being fitted and fixed
tc^ether as tightly as iron dogs could grip them, while
lying in a prone position. When all was ready, a hook
and cable were attached to the top side, a mighty pull
was given by the steam engine , and lo ! the section
stood upright. Men swarmed over the "bent," as it is
called, rapidly drove in the bolts to keep it vertical, the

35

36 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

cross members were lifted up and set in position in the
twinkling of an eye. One could see the labyrinth of
timber actually growing. Half a mile or so it measures
from end to end, and at the point where it spans
Sundance Creek it is 125 feet in height. It does not
leap across the McLeod river, since that waterway, in
the manner peculiar to Canadian rivers, suddenly alters
its mind when it meets the turbulent little stream, and
bends sharply on itself, making a huge elbow.

That night, as I have hinted, was painful to more than
one member of the party. The man who first contrived
a substitute for bread, viz. baking powder and bacon
fat, giving the mixture the generic name of "ban-
nock," was freely anathematised. The digestions of
members of a community accustomed to city life are
not prepared for midnight struggles with trail food.
Bannock may be highly satisfying, but until the human
engine has become accustomed to this class of fuel it
is apt to make vigorous protest against it.

The following morning introduced us to one of the
tribulations of the trail, and one from which, by the
way, we were destined to suffer considerably.

When camp is pitched, and the packs have been
removed from the horses' backs, the animals are turned
loose into the bush to wander where they will, and to
feed how and when they like. Some are blessed with
very pronounced roving proclivities, and stray a con-
siderable distance. Then a large train will split up into
colonies and each select its own point of the compass.
The result is that a pack of thirty may easily be dis-
tributed over an area of twenty or thirty square miles.
The bush is so thick that they cannot be discovered
readily by the packers, who turn out at dawn and
proceed afoot through the dense moisture-laden brush
in search of them, for their tracks criss-cross in every
direction in a bewildering manner. Eyes must be kept
open and ears ever on the alert to catch the tinkling

THROUGH THE McLEOD VALLEY 37

of the bell carried round the animal's neck. Conse-
quently no little skill is required to discern the most
recent spoor, and a good "rustler" of horses is not an
easy acquisition.

Our packers rolled out of their tents before the sun
had thrown its rays over the eastern horizon, but it
was nearly seven o'clock before all the horses had
been rounded up and coralled within the rope enclosure.
Packing occupied a further two and a half hours, so
we were late in getting away. The experienced man
of the trail likes to hit the hike before the summer sun
has shot very high into the heavens, so that the day's
journey may be finished about three in the afternoon,
a single being generally preferred to a double "drive,"
the former expression signifying being on the road con-
tinuously for several hours instead of for three or four
hours in the morning, followed by two or three hours'
rest in the heat of the day, and then another three
hours* jaunt in the late afternoon. The single drive is
certainly preferable. It gets one into camp early, and
gives a few hours* recreation before tumbling into the
blankets.

Leaving Big Eddy behind us, we made our sinuous
way up through the winding valley. We had well-nigh
struck the lonely trail now, for the freighters who passed
us were few and far between. The ravine was gently
undulating, with broad stretches of open expanse on
either side, fringed by thick poplar-covered banks and
with the glinting fir forming a rising background.
Here and there some hardy pioneers had set to work
ploughing, and the loam — a deep black chocolate colour,
such as one meets for mile after mile on the prairie
— proved that the farmers here would have no great
difficulty in raising produce.

Before we had ridden more than a mile or so the
loneliness of the bush was brought home to us in a
vivid manner. Under a lofty cedar tree, whose branches

38 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

were bowed down as if in grief, was a small enclosure
about seven feet by four. It railed off a rough grassy
mound with a cross of two thick wooden sticks nailed
crudely together. There was no name, possibly the
form sleeping the long rest below had never been known
to his "pards" on the trail by other than a nick-name;
but when he handed in his checks in the bush, his
rough companions had not shirked carrying out the
last sad rites in the lonely wilderness to the best of their
ability, and, in their own rough way, had marked
the spot with two sticks so that one and all might
understand the significance of the railing. That lonely
little God's acre in the wilds, with its decaying wooden
cross, impressed us more forcibly than the crowded
cemetery of civilisation bedecked with the most beautiful
and ornate mausoleums that architect and sculptor can
devise. Its utter simplicity struck a note of strangely
vibrating emotional intensity.

We jogged along at a steady pace of about three
miles an hour, the pack-train following in our wake
like a misshapen snake. Presently the more or less
open country gave way to rising slopes, dotted here
and there with clumps of towering fir. Up and down
over the humps wound the interminable trail. The
man who trod that track first paid no regard to cutting
corners. He simply followed the line of least resistance.
The man who went in his wake did the same, and so
did the third, fourth and perhaps ten thousandth pair
of feet. Such is the way in which a trail is made
through the bush. It is only a matter of six inches
in width, and more often than not is forced through a
perpendicular wall of bush three or four feet in height.
The horse is perfectly at home. He planks his feet
comfortably in the rut, beaten down to a depth of six
inches or so. But try to walk along the same track
with your customary pavement step, and you will soon
be stumbling and tripping. Your toes are for ever

THROUGH THE McLEOD VALLEY 39

striking the wall of the rut, or coming into contact
with an obstacle which the horse never discovers. You
see an Indian on the trail in front. You are inclined
to ridicule his inturned feet, which give him a clumsy,
shuffling appearance, and dub him "duck-footed" right
away. But watch him silently gliding along at a speed
twice that of the pack-horse. He never stumbles or
trips, for the simple reason that his inturned toes keep
to the centre line of the trail, and even should he come
into contact with a small obstacle, owing to the pointed
prow-like angle offered by his feet they glance off, as
the waves slip by the sharp bow of a vessel.

One of our party was a weather-beaten old-timer,
who joined the Hudson's Bay forces in Canada way
back in the 'sixties, and whose first important journey
was overland from Montreal to Vancouver with pro-
visions for the post at the latter point. That was a
journey over the trail and no mistake. The pack-train
set out on the 1st of May, and after being buried in
the bush for four months, making its three thousand
miles' journey, got to its destination in the early days
of September. When this trader reached Winnipeg for
the first time, what is now a hive of 130,000 hustlers
and of sky-scraping buildings was nothing but rolling
prairie, broken only by Fort Garry and some shacks
which housed a few intrepid whites and more Indians.
The "city" of Edmonton numbered only the buildings
of the Hudson's Bay post, with a solitary Indian shack
to keep it company. That was barely half a century
ago. Truly the West has undergone a tremendous
transformation, which, however, is still only in its
early stage.

It was approaching noon. The sun blazed furiously
from an unruffled sky, and the ground reflected the
intense heat. We had ridden fairly hard for some four
hours on end, and were tired, hungry and thirsty. The
warmth in this valley is an outstanding feature being

40 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

evidently due to the warm Japanese Chinook wind which
blows through the mountain passes. This tempering
feature, combined with the richness of the soil and
moderate moisture, renders the whole of this stretch of
country ideal arable land. It recalls vividly to mind
the meteorological conditions prevailing in the southern
and south-western counties of England — and, indeed,
were it not for occasional glimpses of the white caps
of the Eockies, it would not be difficult to imagine
that one was gazing on an English scene. While
meandering along slowly, we suddenly observed a long,
rambling shack perched beneath the trees on a high
bank over a creek, and in a few minutes were face to
face with another way of making a living in the bush.
As we climbed up the bank leading to the shack a sign-
board stared us in the face, upon which was printed,
in a distinctly amateurish hand, "White Mud. Joe
Brown's Stopping Place. Meals, 50 cents."

We had struck a "bush hotel," since a stopping-
place for man and beast is the Canadian backwoods
equivalent of an English wayside inn, but without a
licence. We were in the proscribed area, because the
railway was in active progress barely a mile away.
Adam's ale was the only available refreshment with
which it appeared possible for us to quench our thirst.
But old Joe Brown rose to the occasion. He brought
in a pail filled with ice-cold water, from which jutted
out the necks of four black bottles, bearing a label
which looked like a well-known brand of Scotch whisky.
But the label was a fraud. The contents were merely
good, wholesome, unadulterated cider. But never had
cider so welcome a taste — never was the juice of the
apple so refreshing. It stimulated us for a good hearty
lunch.

Old Joe Brown — everybody calls him old, though he
is as skittish as a kitten, despite his advanced middle
age — raked us up some succulent young lettuces and

THROUGH THE McLEOD VALLEY 41

spring onions which he had raised on a small patch
beneath the shadow of his livery stable. He had not
troubled to dig, but had merely scratched the surface
with a primitive rake and sown his seed ; the climate
and the richness of the soil had completed the work.
It was a roaring big lunch to which we sat down and
did ample justice, extending from tomato soup through
prime steaks, chops, vegetables, stewed fruits, milk
puddings and pies, to cheese and crackers, the whole
washed down with copious draughts of good tea or
cocoa. And the total cost was two shillings a head.
I have sat down to a meal in a London hotel costing
six times as much, and not had such variety, such
abundance, and such nourishing, wholesome victuals as
this chef of the woods gave us in his primitive log hut.
One wondered how he could do it.

"Blest if I know," he replied to an interrogation on
the subject. "But I do. It's the number as pays."

"Number? Where on earth do customers come from
out here? Do you grow them in the woods?"

"Gee! You ought to have been here last season.
Why, I cleaned up a good wad. For weeks on end I
served three hundred meals a day to a hundred men
here — that was 150 dollars — say, £dO — and had my four
large stables chock full of horses every night, and they
represented a good bit of money. They were rattling
good times, were they. But I can tell you, one has
got to look alive to make it pay at 50 cents a meal.
It's the freight what kills, for I have to bring every-
thing in from Wolf Creek by road. I lay in stock for
ten months ahead, having it brought in during winter
by sleigh. That way of freighting 's cheaper, costing
me 65 cents — 2s. 8^d. — the hundred pounds. Even
then the expense of transporting many things, such as
matches, runs into more than the value of the articles.
When I first come out here the railway could not
transport farther than Entwistle, and from there goods

42 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

had to be freighted in by road, fifty-four miles, to Wolf
Creek, I then had to bring them another thirty-three
miles to White Mud. Well, at that time flour cost me
50s. the hundred pounds — 6d. a pound — owing to the
long freight haul, and I had to make it up into bread,
pies and what not to serve with a two-shilling meal.
It seems impossible, but I did it, and it paid me pretty
well too. Now flour costs me 14s. 6d. the hundred
pounds. If I hadn't known the game backwards I never
could have made it pay. But I had been twenty years
as cook on a Grand Trunk Railway dining-car running
between Montreal and Chicago, and the experience there
gained stood me in good stead out here, where good
cooking, and first-class pastry especially, are highly
appreciated. These backwoods fellows are keen critics
in matters pertaining to the culinary art."

Brown is a genial host, and can relate yarns by the
hour. No one thinks of passing White Mud without
looking him up, as we readily recognised, for even in
the space of an hour several men appeared suddenly
from out of the bush, disposed of a good square meal,
and apparently disappeared to nowhere in particular
in the scrub.

"What made me come out here?" answered old
Joe to our inquiry. "Well, twenty years on a train
sickened me somewhat. I had grown tired of the city,
and wanted to see what the Great West, of which I
had heard so much in conversation with passengers,
was really like. I had saved a few hundred dollars,
and some pals of mine having made good out here at
this kind of thing, I decided to make a splash. So here
I am. I settled on this spot when the railway was
so far back as Edmonton — 160 miles east — and it was
pretty lonely and uphill work at first. I had a bit of
difiiculty in obtaining labour to assist me in putting
up this shack, which cost me £240, the wood being
obtained on the spot. I then sat down to wait for my

I

THROUGH THE McLEOD VALLEY 43

first customers. They were not long in coming. The
contractors were pushing their camps ahead of the end-
of -steel, and things were pretty busy last summer and
winter. Of course, when the contractors commenced
railway building about a mile yonder, they set up their
own kitchen and brought in their own cook, so that
my trade fell off. But I cannot grumble. Things,
though a bit slack just now, will look up again directly
as the end-of -steel approaches. You see, a lot of material
has got to be forwarded yet. When that is over I shall
sell out this holding and move a hundred miles or so
farther on. That's the way to make money out here at
this game."

While we were lounging around after our repast we
suddenly heard a wild cheering, and looking around saw
Brown throwing brickbats as hard as he could down
the bank.

"Hello ! you son of a gun ! " he yelled, "What the
blazes have you come out here again for ? " — accom-
panying each word with the heaving of a good-sized
rock at some hidden object.

In a second or two the target hove in sight up the
bank. It was our leading packer, who was dodging
the missiles as best he could, and laughing merrily at
the top of his voice at Brown's ineffective aim. This
was a curious means of extending a greeting in the
wilds ; but when the packer dismounted the two dis-
appeared into the shack, and the rafters rang with
vociferous laughter, that of the packer being a kind of
wild gurgling and choking as he endeavoured to force
down a pumpkin pie at the same time that he was
exercising his risible faculties. The two were old com-
panions, but the appearance of the packer had somewhat
roused Brown's exuberance, which had found vent in the
vigorous fusillade greeting. Truly the ways of the bush
are strange.

That afternoon we had our first shock. We were

44 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

riding along the hump of a cHff, taking in the magnificent
panorama of mountain unfolded before us. The cliff
dropped sheer down for some 300 feet into the McLeod
river, which ambled along lazily, and from its opposite
bank tall cathedral pines waved backwards to the foot
of the snow-capped Rockies, the whole range of which
stood out clearly before us in the dazzling sunlight,
the ice and glaciers reflecting the rays of the sun like
diamonds.

The trail along the cliff was very narrow and riven
with small ditches, down which the surface water after
a rainstorm cascades into the McLeod. The party had
strung out to a length of half a mile or so, our pace
having slackened down to a tortoise's gallop, so that one
and all might admire the beauty of the scene at leisure.
The foremost members, including myself, had drawn up
at an ugly wound in the cliff face, where a gang of rock-
drillers were busily engaged tearing out a path for the
railway, which skirts the summit of this precipice. We
were intently following the disengagement of huge
chunks of rock — how they were prised and warped to the
cliff edge, and then forced over to go hopping, skipping
and jumping down the perpendicular wall with increasing
velocity, until they ended their mad career with a loud
report and a terrific splash in the river. We had pulled
our horses to the brink of the cutting, to follow operations
at the closest possible range, when a wild cry broke out
behind.

Casting round, we saw one of the members of the
party coming along like the wind and pulling his steed
furiously. His horse had bolted. Jumping a ditch, it
had rapped its forelegs against some concealed iron rods
used by the drillers, and the terrific clatter that ensued
among the disturbed rods frightened the horse out of its
wits. It made straight for the cliff edge, reaching which,
it made a sharp swerve and drove right into us. As
it swung round from certain death we lost sight of

THROUGH THE McLEOD VALLEY 45

the rider, and to our horror we saw the saddle go over
the cliff.

"Good heavens ! he's over ! "

We slipped off our horses and ran to the spot, expect-
ing to see the battered corpse of our friend lying at the
bottom of the cliff. We crawled out on hands and knees,
but could see no trace of him, except the saddle, caught
on a projecting rock about ten feet below. The gangers
had thrown down their tools, and were likewise peering
intently into the gulch below.

"What's the matter? Who are you looking for?"
asked a trembling voice behind us.

It was our friend Charlton. We were looking for
his mangled body, and here he was beside us, as white
as a sheet, and rubbing his right shoulder pretty
vigorously.

"Gee! That was a close shave. What happened?"

"The girth snapped just as the brute swerved at the
edge, pitching me to the ground in a small ditch, and
throwing the saddle the other way over the cliff."

Charlton looked pretty scared, as well he might. He
was as near handing in his checks as ever he had been
in his life, and had the saddle not given way as it did,
there is no doubt but that horse and rider would have
been hurled over.

Valleys and humps alternate with striking regularity,
and the fertility of the low-lying stretches is astonishing.
This peculiarity becomes more pronounced the nearer the
mountains are approached. Vetches grow in the wildest
profusion and to a great height, twining round the slim
trunks of the poplar trees like hops. We came across
more than one little patch in these depressions where
some energetic pioneer had succeeded in raising vege-
tables, and there is no doubt but that throughout this
stretch of Alberta a great future is available for truck or
market gardening. The rolling humps protect the valleys
from the biting winds of the north and east. The raising

46 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

of fodder for cattle should prove highly remunerative, as
we found wide open expanses of rich, succulent pasturage
bordering the streams. It was now that driving the ship
of the bush became an exacting task. The animals could
not resist the tempting growth and straggled from the
trail, gulping down large mouthfuls at gluttonous speed,
until the packer hove in sight, and they were stimulated
into rapid forward movement once more under the strident
tones of his adjurations. Even then they were not going
to be denied, for they incessantly made a big snatch here
and there as they went along.

We had threaded our way for about thirteen and a half
miles beyond White Mud, and now bade adieu to the
McLeod, whose winding waters had kept us company for
so many miles. We had gained the "Leavings," or, as
it was called in the olden days, " Plum Pudding Cache."
From this point the river makes a sudden break to the
south, for the rising low mountain immediately ahead
is the divide between the McLeod and Athabaska
rivers. In its wandering southwards for two or three
score miles, the McLeod cuts a channel which, when
traced out on paper, resolves itself into the striking profile
of a human face. The trail, however, keeps to a direct
westerly course, crossing the divide at almost its
highest point.

CHAPTEK IV
Crossing the Divide into the Athabaska Valley

The Trail becomea more difficult — Muskeg — Over the Divide into the
Athabaska Valley — A Hundred-Thousand-Acre Fire — A Dismal Way
— An Altitude of 4,640 feet — Beginning the Descent — A Terrific
Storm — " Hikers " — Hardisty Creek — Prairie Creek — Beheading a
Hill — A Bush Hospital — Antiseptic Effect of the Air.

"You've got a pretty stiff trail in front of you," remarked
a freighter cx)ming eastwards. "The muskeg's pretty
bad. It's been fixed a bit here and there, but I should
advise you to go carefully."

It was not long before we were destined to find out
just what that muskeg was like. So far, the trail had
been what the Westerner calls "easy," though perhaps I
should have disputed the veracity of that phrase with my
knowledge of English roads, lanes and footpaths. Now
we were brought face to face with one of its worst phases.
Muskeg is nothing more nor less than swamp ; a peat
bog would be the nearest simile, and it is almost as
treacherous. It is formed, as I have said, of the decayed
vegetable accumulations of centuries, saturated with stag-
nant water. It looks fairly substantial with its top growth
of stubble and moss, calling to mind nothing so much as
a pond dried up by the heat in summer, leaving its evil-
looking, cracked bottom with dank puddles here and
there. More often than not a stream will be running
through the mass in a semi-subterranean manner. One
particularly bad patch ran right across our trail. A person
walking does not experience any untoward results beyond
a possible springiness beneath the feet, and the sudden
slide of a foot now and again into viscous slime up to the

47

48 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

knee. But woe betide the horse that gets caught in its
sticky clutches. Some animals are more adept at cross-
ing the muskeg than others, being intuitively guided as
to the best way to step from point to point. But, as a
rule, the horse's foot plunges into the mass like a stake
driven by a hammer, and the brute has to exercise con-
siderable effort to withdraw it.

When he comes to the edge of a swamp the pack-
horse sniffs round suspiciously and paws his feet in a half-
hearted manner. He puts one foot carefully forward,
brings it back again, and moves sideways a trifle to reach
out to a rather more substantial-looking spot. Then he
strikes out. His feet give a wicked squelch as they go
down, and another ominous gurgle as they are pulled out.
As he proceeds he sinks deeper and deeper, until he is im-
mersed almost to his girth. Feet drawn from the stirrup,
you keep a sharp eye on the animal's movements, ready
to spring clear the moment he gets into difficulties.
The poor beast lurches rather than walks, and no
little effort is required to preserve your balance. Should
you slip — well, you may be certain of a good sousing in
the most evil-looking semi-liquid mass it is possible to
imagine. One packer came a cropper through his animal
losing his balance, and when he at last got up he pre-
sented a sorry sight. He could not have looked worse
if he had fallen into Thames mud. It took ua over
half an hour to cross that muskeg, although it was not
more than 60 feet in width. The slow progress was
due to a pack-horse getting caught. He stepped into
a concealed bad spot, and instantly sank up to his girth.
Then he started kicking and floundering as if demented,
but the weight of the pack and his own frantic struggles
only served to cause him to sink deeper and deeper into
the mire. At last he gave it up, and rolled helplessly
over on to his side. In the twinkling of an eye the
packers had rushed to his assistance. Wading up to well
over their knees — a packer never knows what it is to

\

GROSSING THE DIVIDE 49

possess a dry pair of nether garments — they released the
pack and hauled it to one side. Then, while one pulled
at the bridle, the others pushed against the flank, the
animal meanwhile being urged to a fresh attempt at ex-
trication. The mud flew about in clouds, spattering the
packers from head to feet. The more the horse struggled
the louder yelled the packers, and the more they tugged
and pushed. At last, with a supreme effort, the horse
sprang out of the hole and stood on dry ground, shaking
and trembling like an aspen leaf.

For mile after mile we had to battle against this
treacherous muskeg, and it was tiring and heavy work.
Sometimes we would see a bad spot in the middle of the
trail, and, sooner than attempt to force our way through,
would make a wide detour, only to be caught in a worse
place, and would wallow and flounder in water and mud
three or four feet deep. Very few of us could boast a
dry suit of clothes in the course of three or four hours'
tussle with this frolic of Nature's, and our garments
looked much the worse for wear, with their thick, large
and frequent blotches of black, unsavoury mud.

Every ledge on that hill could boast a muskeg, for
the water collects in the basin-like depressions, and there
awaits the unwary. At more than one place we could
see that the freighters who occasionally came so far as
this had been engaged in a stiff fight, and had resorted
to the only defensive measure possible. This is the build-
ing of a corduroy ; merely the trunks of trees and branches
felled by the wayside and laid transversely beside one
another, forming a kind of mat. These in themselves
are a first-rate trap to catch the careless horseman, for
as the horse walks over them they roll round, causing
the animal to stumble and stagger like a drunken man,
while here and there, where a dead trunk has been pressed
into service, it will collapse beneath the horse's weight,
and let its feet through into the unstable ooze below. One
stretch of muskeg we traversed, at the foot of a towering

E

50 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

hump over which the trail wound its way, was spanned
by a section of corduroy over a quarter of a mile long.
This particular causeway had been well built in its time,
having longitudinal heavy trees upon which the cross logs
were laid. But it had fallen somewhat into decay, and
now and again when a horse put its foot down a broken
log would fly up like a big tip-cat.

The divide proved to be one of the most desolate
stretches on the whole of the trail. Some fifty
years ago it was clothed from foot to crest with fine
massive timber, the value of which must have run into
hundreds of thousands of pounds. Then a fire swept
through the mass, denuding over a hundred thousand
acres. Where before stretched an endless expanse of
varying shades of green, where towering pines converted
the trail into a picturesque avenue, is now nothing but
depressing sterility. The sky-line is broken on all sides
by gaunt tree-stumps, which, burnt and scorched and
bare, make a ghastly blot on the landscape. The
ground is piled to a height of ten, twelve — aye, twenty feet
with the decomposing carcases of what were once stately
trees, criss-crossed and packed into such a dense, im-
penetrable maze as to beat you back should you attempt
to break from the trail. On a hot summer's day, when
the sun is pouring down relentlessly from a cloudless
sky, the effect is poignantly acute, for nothing is so liable
to provoke depression on the trail as dead tree-stumps for
mile after mile on all sides. The bush is endeavouring
to hide these grisly wounds inflicted upon Nature by the
fire fiend, but only serves to render the scene more melan-
choly. The silence is one that can be felt, for not a sound
breaks the stillness of the wilderness, save possibly the
wind, which whistles and soughs through the ugly jagged
standing trunks as if mourning the desolation. The trail
is littered with the fallen monarchs which have been
levelled by tempest, and each successive gale only serves
to render ^lie trail more difficult and the going more

CROSSING THE DIVIDE 51

trying. A trunk between three and four feet in diameter
is a fearsome obstacle across your path, and you have to
plough your way as best you can through the bush — the
branches of which cut your face like a whip — to make
your way round the obstruction. When you plunge into
the undergrowth you cannot see where you are going.
You trust blindly to luck and the sagacity of the pack-
horse. Tangled vegetation walls you in on every side
and closes over your head. It is by sheer weight that you
force your way, clinging tightly to your saddle for fear
that you should be suddenly unseated, rocking wildly from
side to side as the horse stumbles and falls over concealed
rotting trees, and keeping as sharp an eye as you can
in the circumstances for snags — the dead branches of
trees snapped off near the trunk , leaving only a few inches
projecting which are capable of inflicting uglier wounds
than a bayonet.

The dangers of the dead and living vegetation
were only equalled by the perils of the ground over
which we were picking our toilsome way. Now and
again there would be a savage jolt, caused by the horse
flopping into a mudhole, or slipping on its haunches, as a
piece of rock rolled away from under its feet. Under such
conditions it is not surprising that but little more than
a mile an hour can be registered. When at times a hun-
dred feet or so of free trail is met and the country opens
out, letting you secure a glimpse of the middle and ex-
treme distance, you pull up for a welcome breather and
to gather strength for another plunge into the blinding
bush.

One such peep as we got through a rift in the moun-
tain side afforded us a gorgeous view to the east. We
were at an altitude of about 4,000 feet, and the expanse
of rolling country was impressively vast. The atmosphere
was wonderfully clear, and for some fifty or seventy miles
stretched away nothing but trees, trees, trees, to the point
where earth and sky appeared to meet in a wavy line. We

52 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

could see the meandering McLeod stretching for miles,
and could take in many of its remarkably sharp hairpin
bends, with here and there a large blob of scintillating
crystal where the river had spread itself over a depression
forming a lake. That was the last glimpse of the
McLeod we obtained, for the interminable dead jack pine
presently blotted out the panorama.

Up, up we toiled, winding round crags, in and out
piles of windfall, over hummocks of rocks, through
furiously boiling creeks and innocent-looking muskegs.
The heat was intense, and the arduousness of the going
set up violent perspiration. At first coats were shed, and
then sweaters, in order to seek a little relief; and when
this was insufficient, shirt fronts were opened wide to the
slight cooling breeze.

At last the summit was gained. We had notched an
altitude of 4,640 feet. Wolf Creek to our rear was only
2,500 feet above the Atlantic, and to cross the Rockies by
the Yellowhead we should not have to rise to such a
height as this. This was the greatest altitude we should
attain throughout the whole of our journey. We had
been climbing steadily for nearly five hours, and had
covered about ten miles — two miles an hour cannot be
construed into fast travelling, but in the circumstances
we considered we had done well. On one hand the
McLeod made its way, on the other rolled the mighty
Athabaska. The nearest point between the banks of
these two rivers over the divide as the crow flies is
about ten miles ; by trail it is nearly twice as much.
Utter desolation enveloped us on every side, and the
summit of that divide is about the most melancholy spot
on which human eyes could alight. During our persistent
climb scarcely a word had been spoken. All topics of
conversation had long been exhausted ; dead timber and
a windfall-strewn trail, with their pitfalls and dangers,
are not conducive to comment, except of a querulous
character.

GROSSING THE DIVIDE 53

And the prospect as we started down the western
slope was even more disconsolate than that on the eastern
ascent. Brilliant sunshine and perspiring warmth had
attended our climb ; now we were to experience the
reverse conditions. Dense black clouds came rolling up
the Athabaska valley, and in the distance could be
heard the growling of thunder. As we dipped lower and
lower the growling grew louder and the gathering gloom
was relieved by brilliant flashes of vivid lightning ribbon-
ing across the black canopy from one ridge to the other.
The wind suddenly sprang up, and was soon whistling
through the dead, silent forest. Now another danger
confronted us. It is bad enough to have to keep your
eyes glued to the ground for deadfall and muskeg, but
when there is danger from collapsing giants suddenly
surrendering to the fury of the storm the perils are a
thousand times worse. When that visitation burst above
our heads, it was as if inferno had been let loose. The
clouds enveloped the country in an almost inky blackness,
and when the lightning flashed the brilliance of the
momentary illumination was blinding, and threw the
gaunt trunks into powerful, grotesque relief. The deafen-
ing crash and roll was continuous as the heavy artillery
of Nature reverberated from mountain top to mountain
top, and the effect upon the drums of the ears was very
similar to that experienced when standing in close
proximity to a twelve-inch gun at the moment of dis-
charge. Instinctively one clapped hands over ears to
stop the violent vibration and singing. When there was
a momentary lull in the thunders, there was heard the
crack, creak, and final terrifying crash of a towering tree
being swept to the ground by the wind. Advancing up
the valley was an opaque, dull grey-coloured sheet, stretch-
ing from one side right across to the other, and com-
pletely blotting out everything in its rear. The curtain
advanced with startling velocity, and in a few minutes
we were enveloped in a torrential downpour. Fortunately

54 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

we had donned our slickers in time, otherwise we should
have been soaked to the skin before we could have slipped
them on when the rain broke over us. The downfall was
so heavy that the water bounced off our oil-soaked outer
cloaks in miniature cascades.

One of the strangest features of the trail is the com-
paratively large number of travellers one meets afoot.
They disdain the pack-horse because they can get along
quicker by Shanks 's pony. This is perfectly true, for
whereas with a horse, on a trail such as winds over the
divide, one can only reckon on a steady one and a-half
to two miles an hour, afoot one can easily keep up a pace
of three or four miles an hour — and these backwoodsmen
are pedestrians of the finest class. As we dropped down
into the Athabaska valley, we met one of these "hikers."
He was trudging sturdily along , with no protection against
the inclement weather, with only a small pack strapped
to his back, and his rifle slung over his shoulder. He was
truly making a steady three miles an hour, and as he
came within hailing distance cheerily sang out. We drew
rein, and inquired after his welfare.

" Where are you going ? "

"Wolf Creek."

Phew ! This was something like a walk. It was
nearly six o'clock ; there was a fearsome lonely trail over
rough country, and there was no likelihood of his meeting
a soul for sixteen miles. But he never paused in his
gait. He went on like a machine, throwing back answers
to our interrogations.

"How long are you going to keep going to-night? " .

"Until about nine. Then I'll make a fire, roll up in
my blanket until dawn, and be off again."

"How about food?"

"I'm all right. I've got some bannock and cold pork
in my pocket. That'll do for to-night, and I'll strike a
railway camp about ten in the morning."

"Nothing wanted?"

CROSSING THE DIVIDE S5

"No, thanks! Goodnight."

He was gone — lost to sight round a bend in the trail.
Yet his was no isolated case. We met many a hiker,
who either disdained his horse or did not possess one,
plodding along as nonchalantly as a pedestrian treads a
city street. Many prospectors we met were in this plight,
their animals being fully loaded with the requirements
for the trail. Fortunately good fellowship prevails in
the bush, and when travellers meet, the first inquiry is
in regard to respective food supplies or other require-
ments. If a man hits a camp late at night, he is always
freely welcomed and a meal straightway prepared for
him. The hospitality on the narrow pathway in the
wilderness is unique. The one may be a millionaire and
the other a "hobo," but social inequalities are forgotten,
and they sit down like brothers to share and share alike.

We pulled up for that night at a stopping-place which
was among the most isolated it was our lot to encounter.
It was a Scotsman's investment, and Mackenzie dwelt
there in lonely state. His patronage seemed even more
remote than that of Joe Brown at White Mud, but he was
looking to the future, so he said. Even as it was, he had
about a dozen or so callers a day. We made a raid on
his menu, but unfortunately we found the mosquitoes
somewhat pugnacious in the heat of the shack, gulped
down our supper, and beat a hurried retreat to the open,
where we set to work putting up our tents on ground that
held the water like a sponge. It was a dreary spot on the
banks of a little creek, with only the chipmunks for com-
pany, but in the course of an hour two freighters, with
their lumbering wagon and team of oxen, pulled in.
Though they were as taciturn as the majority of these
backwoodsmen — the silence of the bush appears to enter
the very souls of those who move therein — we managed
to pull and tear some little scraps of conversation out
of them, though it was not of a very enlightening
character, being confined mostly to the trials of the

56 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

freighter's life and the hardness of the grind for a few
dollars.

When we set out again, we left the burned timber
and deadfall behind us with little regret. Poplar scrub,
here dense and there sparse, relieved with wide open
patches, was traversed, and we made a merry, swinging
pace. The valley of the Athabaska is destined to become
one of the busiest and most prosperous gardens of the
North-West in the next decade. On the southern and
western side of the river the land rolls back very gently,
and extensive open expanses of meadowland, easily re-
claimable for the plough, were traversed. Some of these
little prairies, as they are called in the vernacular, are
of large area, and the grass grows luxuriantly. The
great majority of those entirely void of scrub and
practically level were already occupied, pioneers having
grabbed up the land, not for cultivation, but to hold to
sell to the seekers for farms who follow in throngs behind
the end-of-steel. Some are in the possession of the In-
dians, who till a small patch during the summer, on which
they raise the barest necessities of life, eking out an
existence during the winter by trapping, though in this
territory fur and feather life has been wellnigh exter-
minated. But the Indian is just as canny as the white
man, perhaps more so. He can live on a scantier and
simpler diet than his rival, and the cheaper he can live
the more he wants for his holding. Down by the river-
side the soil is exceedingly rich , and the pasturage thrives
thick and high. As we dropped lower and lower into the
valley the Rockies loomed higher and higher, with gaunt
bare slopes of limestone — for, taken on the whole, these
sides exposed to the bitter east and north have not
enough soil to support the hardiest of vegetation, and
the contrast between the glittering snowcaps and the
sombre dull massive flanks is very impressive.

We first swept down to the edge of the Athabaska at
Hardisty Creek, which tumbles into the larger river, and

CROSSING THE DIVIDE 57

over which Mount Hardisty stands sentinel. The water-
way had already attained respectable proportions, being
about three hundred yards in width and swinging along
at about eight miles an hour. Crossing the creek, we
pressed on through another six miles of excellent arable
land, until the low-lying flat came to an abrupt conclusion
at Prairie Creek. This flat is semicircular and about a
mile across, the hills hemming it in like a huge amphi-
theatre. This was our destination for the night. So we
thought ; but the gods and horses willed otherwise. How-
ever, it was an idyllic situation, and our enforced pro-
longed stay of two days was highly enjoyable, for here a
pronouncedly British element among the resident en-
gineering staff served to while away the time in first-class
style, as they could relate experiences in the backwoods
without end. From here were obtained magnificent
glimpses of the outer barrier of the Kockies, which, owing
to the clear atmosphere , seemed no more than half a dozen
or so miles away — in reality the distance was nearer thirty
miles — and as we were at a low level they seemed to rear
up suddenly in massive peaks to a great height.

We followed the operations of a gang cutting off the
top of the hill on the northern side to make way for the
iron road. Five or six horses were harnessed to a plough,
which was driven up and down a steep declivity having a
gradient of about 1 in 2^. On the descent the grader
lowered the steel nose of the implement into the ground,
which, as the horses tugged downwards, loosened the
earth and stones, sending the spoil glancing along an
angular plate, in the same manner as a snow-plough
works in the street. When the horses neared the bottom
of the decline they sat down on their haunches to form a
brake, and at the critical moment gave a sudden sw^eep
and swung the plough at right angles, shooting the re-
moved spoil in a rattle down the hillside for two hundred
feet or so. In this w^ay the crown of the hill was being
low^ered rapidly. A little farther on the hillside was being

58 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

removed in huge chunks by dynamite to provide founda-
tions for an 800-foot bridge which was to span a wide
gorge in order to gain a ledge on the opposite mountain
shoulder.

About half a mile east of the camp, nestling among
the trees, was a strange blend of civilisation and the wild
North- West. Here was a long, rambling building erected
in the ordinary log-shack manner. The large door was
entered, and there stood out in regular rows a number
of cots replete with snowy white linen. This was the
railway construction hospital, and it would have done
credit to many a town in regard to its equipment. The
care of the men in sickness and accident is one of the first
thoughts of the contractors. One ward was available for
contagious diseases, while its fellow served for housing
accident cases. The floor was spotless, as were also the
walls and ceiling, though fashioned of rough timber.
The cots were equipped with every requirement, and two
attendants were retained to tend the patients. At the
time of our visit there was only one solitaiy case — an
axeman, while wielding his axe, having lost three toes of
one foot through the tool glancing and cutting through
his boot. No case, no matter how complicated its char-
acter, could baffle the resources of this hospital in the
bush. There was an operating theatre, spacious, well-
lighted and finished off in white American cloth, to per-
mit easy and rapid washing down, with every requisite
for the most serious operation. Alongside was a well-
stocked dispensary.

The hospital is presided over by a fully qualified
physician and surgeon, as well as a resident doctor, but
fortunately their services are seldom required. The worst
case that had come into their hands up to the time of
my visit , the doctor related , was where a man in working
a grading-plough had slipped and had his thigh, body,
and legs torn badly by a hook. Septic poisoning was
feared, but he recovered in next to no time, an effect due

Crossing the divide 59

in a great measure to the healthy physique of the patient
and the bracing purity of the air.

The rapidity and ease with which men who meet with
accidents in the bush recover without skilled medical
advice or special treatment is astonishing. A man's axe
slips and pulls up in his leg, inflicting a gaping wound or
possibly lopping off a toe or two. No antiseptic or other
washing is resorted to, but the injury is bound up tightly
with the first material that comes handy. These men
never give a thought to the possibilities of foreign matter
or microbes entering the wound. They know practically
nothing about blood-poisoning. There is no special diet-
ing, for the simple reason that it cannot be adopted, even
if advisable; but in a few days the man is out and about,
following his usual occupation.

CHAPTER V
Jasper Park to the Foothills of the Rockies

Indians as Caretakers of Horses — A Park half as large as Belgium — Charms
of Jasper Park — An old Pioneer — Drystone Creek — An Excursion
to Brule Lake — The Game Warden of Jasper Park — Sealing Fire-
arms — Hot Springs at Fiddle Creek — An Enormous Coal Bed.

Our arrangements permitted the acceptance of but a
single night's hospitality of the resident engineer at
Prairie Creek. But Fate, as typified by the pack-horses
and Indians, was against us. The packers were out early
in the morning "rustling" for the creatures, but they
came in five short. Where the others were they could
not say ; the bush is as tight in regard to its secrets as
the slums of a city. We were stranded all that day while
penetrating though futile search was made for the missing
beasts.

The packer in charge came to us in dismay.

"Can't find those plugs anywhere. Those sons o'
guns o' Indians have coralled them ! " he growled, scratch-
ing his head.

The resident engineer thought this was very probable.
The red men are extremely wily, and if they can turn
a dollar over, no matter how dubious the method, they
will do so. They would not openly practise horse-
stealing, as that would bring them up against the law. So
they resort to subterfuge. They know that horses are
gregarious. Consequently stragglers in the bush are lured
away by driving their own cayouses among them, and thus
all are rounded up in a bunch. If the owners discover
their animals among the cayouses, the Indians naively
remark that they had not noticed the strangers.

6o

TO THE FOOTHILLS OF THE ROCKIES 6i

"What's to be done, Walter? "

The packer scratched his forehead vigorously.

"Darned if I know, 'cept offer a reward. If I catch
'em, there'll be something doing. If we put up ten
dollars for the discovery of the plugs, they'll appear like
lightning."

It certainly is amazing with what alacrity lost horses
will appear in a territory inhabited by Indians when a
reward is offered.

At this juncture the owner of the horses appeared on
the scene, having driven hard on our heels, and the situa-
tion was explained to him.

"Well, look here," he remarked, after listening to
the recital of details, "I can get another five horses. You
push on, and I'll tempt them with ten dollars."

Walter the packer knew the Indians and their
ways. He observed the speed with which the Indians
scurried off'. Jumping astride his own horse, he pelted
hard towards the bush after them, and was soon
lost to sight. Three hours later he was observed
driving towards the camp like mad, with five frantic
and kicking animals in front of him. They were the
lost beasts.

"Did you stump up, Walter? "

"Not by a darn sight."

"Where were they?"

" Corralled ! The Indians had got 'em ! I guessed
that was what was up."

"Did you have any trouble? " asked one of the party.
The red man is always ready to levy a complaint against
the paleface to the Mounted Police, and we did not wish
to court trouble in that direction.

"Not much ! " and Walter gave a merry chuckle.

It seemed as though he had enjoyed an untoward
adventure, so we pressed for information.

"Well, it was like this. I didn't like the look of those
Indians, so I tracked 'em. I came up against a settler's

62 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

shack. A white woman was at home, and I asked her
if she'd seen any stray horses about?

" ' No,' she replied slowly ; but all of a sudden she
started out : ' Come to think of it, I saw the Indian below
driving home his beasts last evenin', and he had one or
two new 'uns among 'em. But ask that boy thar, he'll tell
you.'

"I went up to his Indian lordship. I sounded 'im,
and said I'd give 'im ten dollars if he found 'em. He said
' he'd 'ave a look,' and bolted off, I got to the windward
side of 'im in the bush and followed *im. I saw him
makin' for an Indian shack, so I slipped off my * plug,'
whipped ahead, and got to the shack first. Thar I found
the whole bunch. As I war leadin' 'em out, up came
the red boy. ' Give ten doU'rs ! ' ' No, sonny,' I re-
plied, 'I found 'em, not you; I guess I'll get that re-
ward.' The boy stormed and cussed, but I steered in:
* Now, sonny, cut it out. If I hear any more o' yar
palaver, I'll 'ave the Mounted Police on your track. I'll
meet one to-morrow, so look out for trouble.' He hiked
like a shot grizzly. And here we are, so now we'd better
be gettin' a move on ! "

We heard no more of the episode. The threat of the
Mounted Police was enough. No one dreads the little
man with the yellow stripe more than the Indian, especi-
ally if he has been up to any underhand work, for his
punishment is short and sharp.

We were soon on the trail again, but the first half-mile
was a teaser. We had to get to the summit of the ridge
overlooking the western side of Prairie Creek, and it
entailed a climb of three or four hundred feet rising one
in two. It was like walking up the side of a house, and
though the path zig-zagged like a worm in agony, it was
pretty difficult work. Half an hour slipped by before
we paused for a breather on the crest, for man and beast
were puffing furiously.

It was all downhill npw. When the horses had got

TO THE FOOTHILLS OF THE ROCKIES 63

their second wind we set off gaily, winding in and out
of the poplar scrub. In a short time these slim trees
gave way to tall, stately, cathedral pines. We had entered
Canada's latest acquisition — the Jasper National Park,
This is a tremendous reservation , comprising five thousand
square miles — a tract half the size of Belgium — of some
of the finest stretches of mountain, valley, river and forest
scenery to be found in the whole of the Dominion. This
is a territory rich in historic associations and Indian
legend ; it was the scene of many a fierce tussle between
the Hudson's Bay and the North-West Trading Com-
panies for supremacy in the fur trade.

The preservation of this imposing expanse for the
public in perpetuity was an excellent move on the part
of the Dominion Government, and their action will be
more highly appreciated by posterity, since, as it is in-
tended to retain the natural characteristics of the country,
future generations will be able to obtain a graphic idea
of the wild, difficult character of their country when the
pack-horse or Shanks's pony was the only means of con-
veyance, and of the heavy odds against which the pioneers
in the unknown West were pitted when they undertook
to lift the veil from the wilderness. Nothing will be done
to the Park, except that wide roads will be driven through
the dense bush in order to facilitate movement from one
part to the other, and that the reserve will be bisected
by the iron path of the Grand Trunk Pacific Railway, by
means of which the Park will be brought into direct, easy
touch with the teeming cities east and west.

The diversified view of woodland and riverscape is one
of the grandest in the country, and the grim, frowning
mountains, with their white, glittering mantles and scin-
tillating peaks, form an imposing frame to the picture.
The Park stretches right up to the inter-provincial
boundary, a matter of sixty miles or so as the bird flies.
Lofty coigns of vantage, from which wonderful vistas are
unfolded, are accessible on every side; and when trails

64 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

are driven to these eyries, tourists and sightseers, anxious
to catch ghmpses of Nature unadorned, will be able to
gratify their desire to the full in ease and comfort.

One hundred years ago the district teemed with game
of all descriptions — bear, marten, mink, beaver, elk,
mountain goat, sheep, cariboo and so forth roaming in
profusion. But during later years the Indians, roving
to and fro in what they considered their happy hunting-
ground, almost exterminated every indigenous animal.
When it was announced that the Government were going
to take over the 3,200,000 acres, and that the Indians
would have to move to pastures new, they had a grand
final round up. Precisely what the total of that slaughter
was is unknown, but it must have been considerable.
By making the reservation an asylum for game of all
descriptions, with perfect freedom to go wherever they
like, the authorities hope to be able gradually to
bring about a re-stocking of the preserve. But they
will have to take the Park in hand at the earliest pos-
sible moment, for it is in sore need of overhauling to
ensure its security. The forest is densely piled up with
deadfall, as dry as tinder. Should this be ignited, the
whole stretch of magnificent cathedral pines, cedar and
other noble trees would be devastated, and the Park
would present as desolate and melancholy a scene as
the divide.

On the confines of the Park we came across a hardy
old pioneer of some seventy summers. Gregg was his
name, and his had been a marvellous example of burial
alive in the wilderness. He had squatted on a flat some
twenty-five years before, when the nearest railway station
was two hundred miles or so away. We found him
extremely taciturn, replying monosyllabically when we
plied him with questions. But what else was to be
expected after nearly a quarter of a century's immersion
in the bush, without a soul to whom to speak outside
his own family circle, except when he ventured to

TO THE FOOTHILLS OF THE ROCKIES 65

Edmonton to re-stock his provisions? But he had been
wonderfully industrious. His farm wore an appearance
of high productivity and gayness, the vegetables being
well developed and wonderfully healthy, while his
stretches of pasturage were brilliantly green, dense, and
of great promise.

The trail through the National Park had been widened
already to admit of the passage of a wagon, with
muskeg corduroyed and streams bridged, so that pro-
gress was easy and rapid. Towering, graceful pines
girdled either side, forming a beautiful avenue still
retaining its primeval characteristics. As one looked
down the cleavage through the trees, the view was com-
pleted by a massive sombre-looking wall garbed with a
rich green to the top, for the trail skirts the foothills.
Then the trees fell back, and we emerged upon a rolling
depression where the trail switchbacked in a gentle
manner; The gloom of the forest gave way to a
gay brilliancy, for the wild tiger-lily here flourishes
luxuriantly, and at the time of our visit was at the height
of its beauty. The bright flamingo-red of this bulb
stood out in striking contrast to the greens of the trees
and the dull blackish grey of the mountains, presenting
a scene of gorgeous splendour.

The tiger-lily is not the only flower indigenous to
this region. Cursory examination revealed a score of
plants which are raised with difficulty in an English
garden thriving in wild luxuriance — such flowers as the
campanula, primrose-calceolaria, aquilegia, sunflower,
summer chrysanthemum, moon-daisy and Michaelmas
daisy. When this Park is rendered accessible by the
railway, it will be a treasure-ground for the botanist
because of the flowers, ornamental grasses, mosses and
lichens growing here in the greatest profusion.

We hugged the foothills tightly for mile after mile.
Then the trail gave a sudden dip and swerve to the
west. As we urged our way through a dense stretch

F

66 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

of undergrowth in the low-lying, damp ground, the
mountain range which had faced us for so long like an
endless wall seemed to have been forced apart with a
gigantic wedge, for we came to an abruptly rounded
end known as Folding Mountain. We had gained the
broad gateway through which the Athabaska debouches
from the mountains, and where it becomes slightly
swollen by the waters of Fiddle and Drystone Creeks.
We swung across the latter and under Folding Mountain
— which appears to fold up as you swing round its base,
but with its bare mottled head has a stronger resemblance
to a crouching animal — we pitched our camp.

Up to this point, except for the fatiguing toil over
the divide the trail had been tolerably easy. Now
its difficulties loomed up in dead earnest. We called a
halt at this point because a side journey was to be
made to Brule Lake. We reached Drystone Creek early
on a hot summer's Sunday afternoon. One or two
members of the party felt uncomfortably hot, were bathed
in perspiration and grimed with dust. The shallow,
limpid waters of the creek were so fascinatingly inviting
that they decided upon a "dip." No comment was
offered, but a grim smile flickered round the mouths of
the packers, as if in anticipation of some fun. The
seekers for a bath toddled off to find a shady pool, were
soon stripped, and with a gay shout made a plunge.
But the sound of the water splash had scarcely struck
the ears of the others in camp when there ensued
a savage, long-drawn-out, tremulous " Whoo-oo-oo-oo ! "
and the bathers were out again on the bank shivering,
and rubbing themselves vigorously. The packers burst
out into uproarious mirth. The "tenderfeet" had not
realised that the creek has its birth in snow and ice
a mile or two above, and that it is glacial in its
coldness. The intrepid ones did not venture on a second
plunge, but dressed as rapidly as possible and indulged
in a smart walk to get their circulation back. Hence-

THE EASTERN GATEWAY THROUGH THE ROCKIES.
Our camp under Folding Mountain.

TO THE FOOTHILLS OF THE ROCKIES 67

forth seductive crystal streams were regarded somewhat
askance.

Our excursion to Brule Lake involved a doubling
back for about seven miles, and when we reached its
shores we came to the conclusion that the French
name was most apt. The lakeside is a mass of sand,
littered with the barkless, bleached carcases of noble
trees borne down by the Athabaska, of which Brule
Lake is merely a widening to about a mile at the
broadest part by something like seven miles in length.
The main channel of the river lies at the foot of Bull-
rush Mountain, which rose up sheer before us on the
opposite bank. Scarcely a vestige relieved the dull-
brown, burnt flanks of this mountain, but it possessed
a striking and picturesque individuality, inasmuch as the
stratification of the rock was thrown out with vivid
force, synclines and anticlines being very easily dis-
cernible. A conspicuous and curious feature of the lake
is the wind that always sweeps it from end to end,
often with the force of a gale. This is no doubt attri-
butable to the fact that it lies directly at the mouth of
the rift between the mountains, this rift acting as a
funnel through which the winds rattle and roar over the
water.

Apart from its excellent sandy beach, the lake has
practically no attraction. It is comparatively shallow
and muddy coloured. No member of the finny tribe
dwells here; it is dangerous for sailing, owing to the
treachery of the winds, and possesses no bathing attrac-
tions, the water being icy cold even in midsummer. The
wind sweeping over the water strikes the banks, catching
up the flour-like sand and scattering it, whistling, in all
directions. At the far end we saw a lively battle against
wind and sand in progress. The engineers of the Grand
Trunk Pacific, which skirts the southern bank of the
lake, were ploughing their way through the unstable
mass. Here they had a deep cutting, and there a lofty

68 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

embankment, some of the embankments being from
70 to 100 feet in height. These the wind struck,
stripping them of clouds of sand, which were hurled
down into the cuttings the engineers had made. It
was a ceaseless struggle. Screens were being set up
at the entrance to the cuttings to deflect the winds,
and in a measure this had been successful. The en-
gineers were resolved not to be beaten, and were
hatching ingenious ways and means to protect their
handiwork.

When we returned to Drystone Creek camp we
found the Jasper Park game warden in possession. He
demanded all our firearms, for the purposes of sealing,
since these must not be used within the confines of the
reservation. Having accomplished this, he sat down
for a chat, for these rangers are glad to get a little
break in the monotony of their lonely round.

"Say, warden," broke in one of the boys who had
been following the sealing process with silent interest,
"what happens if you should catch us with the seal
broken?"

"Oh, just fine you fifty dollars and confiscate your
weapon ! "

"Gee! Can't we draw in self-defence?"

"Not in the Park."

"But suppose a vicious old grizzly comes up against
us and wants to be too familiar. You wouldn't be so
severe on us if we plugged her, would you?"

"You just have it out with the grizzly first and then
see me — that is, if you can. I'll judge the case on
its merits."

There was no more discussion. The inevitable was
accepted, but low mutterings were heard as to what
that individual would do if a "bar" came up against
him.

The game warden very kindly informed us that we
were about to hit the "hike" in grim earnest. So far,

TO THE FOOTHILLS OF THE ROCKIES 69

he said, we had been on a carriage road in comparison
with what was immediately in front !

"You've got to get over the Koche Miette. That'll
give you a few shivers. The trail's a perfect fright.
There's one place where you have to crawl along a ledge
that drops clean down into the Athabaska. If you slip —
well, you've got a good shoot for about two hundred
feet before you'll pull up in the water."

This was encouraging. It gave the trip the first
spice of excitement we had yet experienced. But there
was an alternative. We could avoid this nerve-shaking
ordeal if we were to swim the Athabaska at the foot of
the mountain. So we pushed along to Fiddle Creek,
four miles or so farther on. Here another short pause
was to be made to enable us to ascend the creek to
its higher reaches, where there were said to be some
remarkable hot springs, about the merits of which much
was said locally, though none of our informants appeared
to have ventured there, as the trail was said to exist
only in imagination. This latter part of the story we
found to be quite correct.

The general conception of a creek is that of an
insignificant tumbling stream or babbling brook. But in
these parts "creek" is colloquially used to describe any
tributary to a main river. It may be but a few feet
in width, vdth only inches of water rolling lazily along,
or it may be a rushing stream as wide as the average
British waterway, several feet in depth and somewhat
exciting to cross. As a matter of fact, it is generally
both : the former in the winter, and the latter in the
spring and summer, when the melting snows cause
numerous freshets to spring suddenly into life. Fiddle
Creek was a case in point. When we crossed, it was
about 20 feet wide, and the water did not come above
the horses' fetlocks. But the mass of pebbles and
boulders strewn through the forest on either side of the
channel proved that when thoroughly roused the creek

70 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

was 200 or 300 feet from bank to bank, and, judging
from the large chunks of rock, torn and twisted tree-
trunks, and piles of sand strewn on all sides, it pelted
into the Athabaska Eiver more in the form of a miniature
Niagara than a brook.

It was about nine miles off the trail up the mountain-
side to the springs. A guide offered his services, but
he disdained the loan of a horse. He could walk it
quicker and easier, he said. It was a constant fight
with brush, deadfall and rocks for every foot of the
way. Riding was absolutely out of the question, and
hiking was decidedly painful and laborious. Now and
again there would be a yap as sudden contact was
made with some obstruction, and anathema fiercely
uttered when one landed in a muskeg or the bed of
the creek in a sitting posture. The mountain sides were
as rough as a rusting wreck covered with barnacles,
and foothold was difficult.

It was a steady uphill climb until an altitude of
4,200 feet was notched, and there, amid the scrub,
were observed the clear and sparkling springs for which
search was being made, almost hidden beneath a mass
of tangled, dead vegetation. This was lopped with the
axe, and cleared away. Three pools were found, the
temperature of the two higher of which registered
125 and 116 degrees respectively. There was no very
strongly developed odour , and the water was almost taste-
less. These are so far the most important hot springs
that have been found in Canada, possessing a greater
degree of heat than those at Banff. The waters are rich
in essential constituents, and there is little doubt but that
"taking the waters at Fiddle Creek" will develop into
a craze within the next few years. Certainly the springs
will recompense enterprising development — indeed,
the Canadian Government and others have decided to
develop them directly railway communication is secured,
it being an inexpensive and comparatively easy matter

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TO THE FOOTHILLS OF THE ROCKIES n

to make a carriageway from the station to the springs.
The Government propose to provide a sanatorium and
accommodation for taking baths, while private interests
are promoting a well-built, commodious hotel for the
delectation of invalids and of tourists to this spa. From
the tourist point of view an hotel at this point would
command general acceptance, owing to the striking and
varied views of mountain, lake and woodland offered
from the elevation.

Apart from a pleasure resort, this immediate district
promises to develop considerable industrial importance.
An energetic prospector, while investigating the geo-
logical composition of the mountains, stumbled upon
coal. It was a good outcrop, and, following up
his initial slice of lack, he found the whole eastern
mountain shoulder under the shadow of the Roche
Miette to be a vast storehouse of coal. Further careful
examination proved the bed to dip under the river, and
to reappear in the continuation of the chain on the
opposite side of the waterway. The deposits stretch
over a matter of 15,000 acres. The fortunate prospector
succeeded in enlisting the support of some well-known
American and Canadian financiers, and when I reached
the spot development was taking place as actively
as is possible when a railway is a hundred miles
away.

I ran up against a young English surveyor, H. H.
Rhodes, who had recently trekked to these pastures,
new from the busy centres of Yorkshire, and he piloted
me over the Jasper Park Collieries, as they are called.
Coal was visible on every side, and Nature appeared
to have distributed it with a free hand in this neighbour-
hood, for the seams, extending to the surface, varied
from 4 to 15 feet in thickness. And Nature was as
discriminating as she was liberal, for the coal appeared
to vary in quality from a semi-anthracite, recalling
English silkstone, to bituminous, excellent for coking;

12 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

some of the latter, under test, has yielded as much as
80 per cent, of fixed carbon.

This discovery, should anticipations be fulfilled, will,
in conjunction with the discoveries of the same com-
modity near Edson, have far-reaching effects in the
Middle West, which is dependent upon the Pennsyl-
vania fields of the United States for supplies of hard
coal, ranging in price from 26s. to GOs. a ton, according
to quality.

The owners of the Jasper Park Collieries were not
losing time. They were resolved to be in readiness by
the time the railway passed their front door, barely
one hundred yards distant. Galleries were being cut
connecting the shafts with the coke ovens, which are
to be set out on the bank, overlooking the iron road,
so that the trucks can be fed by force of gravity with
fuel for the market.

There is no doubt that other finds of this fuel will
be made in these mountains. The mineral wealth of
this part of the Eocky range is absolutely unknown.
The discovery of coal was unexpected, and the un-
earthing of such a vast deposit as must repose in a
region 23J square miles in extent is quite sufficient to
stimulate belief that when the prospector gets to work
upon a methodical and scientific basis " strikes " of other
minerals of commerce may be made. At all events,
the results so far achieved are quite sufficient to make
"mountain scratching" a very promising speculation.

CHAPTER VI
Our Climb over the Roche Miette

A Toilsome Ascent — The Summit — A Glorious View — Scene of the Fight
between the Hudson's Bay axid North-Western Companies — The
Descent to the Rocky River — Missing the Trail — Camping in a
Swamp — Crossing the Athabaska.

While the exploration of the springs was in progress
the packers pushed on to see if the Athabaska could
be crossed a little distance ahead. They returned with
the news that this could be done, but might be dangerous,
as the landing on the opposite bank was perilous to the
horses, and they demurred against taking the risk, the
river being high.

There was nothing for it, then: we must face the
hazard of the Roche Miette. Its grim head was frown-
ing above us now. This is a strangely shaped peak,
and its rugged outline had stood out boldly on our
western horizon for some miles past. It is a serrated
ridge, about 8,000 feet high, running almost due north.
Within a few hundred feet of the river it breaks off
abruptly, and its face for a matter of 2,000 feet is as
straight as if the range had been cleft perpendicularly
with a knife, the straight wall falling off at its base
into a hump which slopes gradually like a hog's back
to the water's edge, when there is another straight drop
of 300 feet or so.

Our way to the foot of the ridge wound through a
broad flat, riven with the now dried-up beds of torrents,
the lofty precipices being so steep that they seemed to
lean forward, enclosing the lowland as if in a box,
with trees clinging frantically to little crevices here and

73

74 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

there, and at such a height that they appeared to belong
to a toy Noah's Ark. In the spring, when the snows
melt under the warm sun, cascades leap from these
vertical faces, and the valley is converted practically
into a seething maelstrom, the water darting hither
and thither in a wild effort to gain the Athabaska.
W© could hear the swish, swish, and gurgle of the
mighty river tearing along on our right, and at last saw
it eddying round the foot of the hump over which we
were to make our way.

Straggling over this rock, at an angle of about 80
degrees, like a saw which has lost many of its teeth
and is lying on its side, was the trail, no more than ten
inches wide, and within six inches of the edge of the
cliff. When the horse was half-way up it seemed to
be rearing. Riding was out of the question, even if
one felt inclined, for it would have been impossible
to keep the seat. As we passed along the ledge we
could hear voices below, and, peering over, we saw
rock-hogs blasting a ledge along the face of the rock
for the railway, only a few feet above the level of the
river, and pitching the excavated debris overboard to
form an embankment, which the water was savagely
licking as if bent on devouring the work of man.

Then the trail swung inward for some distance,
slowly rising the meanwhile. We were crossing the
first hump, and it was fairly easy going after we had
negotiated the ledge, which is liable to unnerve anyone
who is apt to become dizzy when looking down from a
height.

Glancing ahead, we could see a high, rolling ridge.
It was promiscuously strewn with what looked like
matches, but they were in reality fallen trees levelled
by the wind after a fire. They appeared so thickly
strewn as to be impassable. We were " up against it "
now, as our friend the game warden had remarked.
The prospect was appalling, becoming all the more so

OVER THE ROCHE MIETTE 75

as we advanced. Within twenty minutes we were in
the thick of it, slipping, floundering, reeling and tumbling
among the tree-trunks. Eiding was quite an impos-
sibility, so with rein over shoulder, and horse plodding
along warily behind, we trudged forward. Now and
again there would be a sudden wrench backwards as
the horse slipped on to its knees, and as an unlucky
throw from this cause might result in ugly contusions
and possibly in broken limbs, the reins were thrown over
the pommel, and the horse left, like the rider, to find
its way as best it could.

The time slipped by and we did not appear to make
very appreciable progress up that mountain flank.
Bruises and hard knocks from innumerable obstructions
were our lot. And climbing over these hog-backs is
as deceptive as galling. Ahead rises a steep ridge. You
can see nothing beyond, and you spurt forward in the
belief that it is the summit at last. You reach its
crest and another juts up immediately in front of you.
You plod steadily forward, but never seem any nearer
the top. The trail, following the easiest path, doubles
and redoubles on itself; in fact, in following its sinuous
way you practically box the compass during every
hundred yards. You do not walk, because you cannot;
instead, advance is made in a series of slips, slides and
crawls, with a sharp look-out for a dead trunk with
short snags bristling like chevaux de frise.

For three solid hours we groped our way upward,
and then, just as we were despairing at the sight of a
huge, precipitous hump, more formidable than any we
had yet met, running right across the direction the trail
was taking, the track, in its usual tantalising manner,
swung round sharply and plunged into a thicket, from
which it emerged on to a confined plateau, whence the
hump fell away abruptly on all sides. We were at
the top ! Our three hours' climb along three miles of
execrable trail had brought us 1,100 feet nearer the

76 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

clouds. But the spectacle unfolded was worth every
ounce of physical exertion put into that toil. We had
an unobstructed outlook through an arc of some 300
degrees over an interminable expanse of the wildest
mountain scenery one could possibly conceive. It was
as if we were on the hub of a huge wheel lying on its
side, for the ridges radiated from us like spokes in all
directions. Passengers by the completed railway far
below will gain a glorious view from the river level of
walls of mountain, but they will miss the magnij5cent
panorama of peaks that the crest of Eoche Miette provides.

On the west a broad valley extended, carpeted with
primeval forest, cut into countless patches by the ser-
pentining channels of the Eocky Eiver. This is an evil
waterway, which at its lowest level requires ten channels
to carry its tumbling waters into the Athabaska, but,
when in flood, needs a dozen more, for then its rush is
fiendish, sweeping soil, trees and what not away like
straws. Directly in front we could see where the
Athabaska swung round a right-angle corner, and,
following its course, saw its entrance into the large
ham-shaped basin known as Jasper Lake, now a blazing
mirror in the noonday summer sun.

At the eastern end we could see the narrow cut
through the rocky bank where the lake waters make
their exit, and once more become the river, with its
tributaries, the Snaring and Eocky Eivers, as well as
numerous creeks, emptying in on either side. After
rounding the Eoche Miette, the river breaks its bounds
and sprawls across the whole valley, lapping the moun-
tain bases on either hand. Snow-capped peaks con-
fronted us in every direction, the Fiddle Back range,
with its pinnacles beetling from 8,000 to 10,000 feet,
framing the panorama in the form of a huge bow which
lost its identity at both ends in a wild jumble of ragged,
hoary crests.

Cutting straight as an arrow through the trees at

OVER THE ROCHE MIETTE 77

our feet was a broad, open causeway, looking like a
giant's trail through the stagnant pools, forest and
muskeg. This was the road for the iron horse, 100 feet
in width, which is to stretch in an unbroken line from
Atlantic to Pacific, and looking even then like a
high road across the continent. The clearing gang had
completed its task. All was ready for the steam shovel
and ballast train to build up the truncated pyramid
embankment for the two lines of steel, and they would
be brought up as soon as the toe of the Koche Miette
had been trimmed by dynamite to admit of their
advance.

On the northern shore of Jasper Lake we could see
a tumbledown ruin — the last remaining link of a bygone
prosperity in this region. A century or so ago Jasper
Lake was a humming hive. Here the Adventurers of
Hudson's Bay had set up an outpost in charge of Jasper
Hawes. The Indians flocked here to barter their furs,
which were easily obtained, for the woods teemed with
animals of all descriptions. Then, a few miles above,
came the outpost of the North-Western Company, which
w^as sufficiently bold to attempt to compete with the
established English organisation. A keen rivalry sprang
up for the Indians' harvests of fur. The struggle was
sharp and bitter, but was not of long duration. Hudson's
Bay could not be ousted from its entrenchments, and
Henry House, as the competitive post was called, was
vacated, and fell into decay.

Then the fur trade dwindled to such an extent, owing
to the depletion of the forests, that Jasper House scarcely
paid expenses. When fire swept the outpost into oblivion,
it was never rebuilt, though up to about twenty years
ago the Hudson's Bay Company maintained a flying
post here for a part of the season, but now even that is
a thing of the past; Jasper Park knows the fur trader
no longer, though the name has been perpetuated by
its application to the national reserve of which the lake

78 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

forms a part. The Indians round about nurse a belief
that in the cellars of the ruins extensive consignments
of "fire-water" still remain. No serious attempts have
been made to discover the treasure, its existence being
attributed to the lively Indian imagination.

If the ascent of the Roche Miette was exasperating,
the descent was ten times more so, owing to its ex-
cessive steepness, which precluded any attempt at forcing
the pace. On the west side the hump drops down
almost perpendicularly, and, to descend, the trail saws
the side in sharp, steep, short grades. It took us almost
as long to drop into the valley as it had taken to ascend
the opposite flank.

When we reached the vale we had to strike off on
another exciting hunt — the safest point at which to ford
the main channel of the Rocky River. Sometimes one
has to make a detour of as many as ten miles to get
across this fierce waterway, and even then you may be
in danger of being swept off your feet. Better luck
favoured us, however, though the crossing was exciting,
for the river was swinging along at about ten miles an
hour, and was up to the girths of the pack-horses.

Fording a river such as this produces a curious sen-
sation. The horse cuts across the water at an acute
angle to the direction of flow, so as to avoid the danger
of being carried off its feet. You can feel the horse
battling with the current, which swirls and curls wickedly
round it. Then the horse cants over, and leans against
the water. As you approach the opposite bank, this
appears to be slipping by you at a terrific velocity, and
you have the feeling of vainly pawing the water to get
a grasp at the travelling terra firma. The greenhorn
experiences a peculiar dizziness closely akin to mal de
mer for a moment; the next he is on dry land.

We stuck to the narrow winding trail curling through
the trees, the tedium of the jog-trot being varied by a
"hold up" in muskeg, until at last we emerged on to

OVER THE ROCHE MIETTE 79

a park-like open low ridge which forms the southern
bank of Jasper Lake, whose muddy-coloured waters —
for the Athabaska was in flood and heavily charged with
soil scoured out of the banks — offered a different aspect
at close quarters from that presented from the distant
elevation of the Eoche Miette, and stood out in vivid
contrast against the limpid turquoise blue of the placid
waters of Fish Lake on our left hand.

The open character of the country was a welcome
relief from that which we had been travelling over
for some seven hours, and was strikingly reminiscent
of the park-like, undulating stretches characteristic of
rural England. We followed the sandy shore of Jasper
Lake, which mirrored the ragged outline of the mountains
on all sides, to its western end, and there fell on
ill-luck — we lost the trail.

It is an axiom among the pathfinders that where
one man or horse has passed safely before, another can
follow. Our tracker failed to observe the sharp bend
the long beaten-down trail made through the woods,
but kept his eye glued to a scarcely discernible track
running at right angles in the opposite direction. This
led us into a swamp, where the rushes and grass were
growing to a height of five or six feet, and where we
wallowed in three feet of fetid water and slime. The
weeds were beaten down ahead, and the tracker stuck
to the scarcely visible evidence of someone else's tracks
like a sleuthhound. Now and again he would pause
and look anxiously around for drier ground, but the
dense bush gave no signs. For an hour and a half we
battled with this slough (pronounced ' ' sloo ' ' in these
parts), and wandered aimlessly round and round, for
the scarcely discernible trail to which we clung so
tenaciously proved a veritable will-o'-the-wisp. It was
getting late, and the rapidly lengthening shadows told
only too plainly that we should have to hasten if we
were to camp in daylight. At last the tracker paused.

8o THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

"Gee, boys! I guess we've hit a blind steer."

Those behind were pushing blindly on through the
tall scrub, and all were spattered with viscx>us mud from
head to foot. We crowded into a bunch. To retrace
our footsteps would have taken another hour and a half,
and falling darkness would have found us imprisoned
in the slough.

"Well, the Athabaska's ahead somewhere. Let's
push on and find it. We'll have to camp in half an
hour," commented Duggie, another packer, who was in
consultation with the bell-boy. "Give her another
quarter of an hour."

Another resumption, but only for a few yards, since
the swamp became deeper and deeper, while, to make
matters worse, a stagnant creek crossed the trail and no
signs of footprints on the opposite bank could be seen.

"Stay here, I'll cruise about a bit." And digging
his spurs into his horse, the leader blundered through
the swamp along the stream to search for a crossing.
In five minutes he returned, looking glum.

"Well, we've got to get to the other side, anyway,
and we might as well do it sooner as later. Saying
which he sprang off his horse, and, wading up to his
thighs through the stagnant slough, blundered into the
stream, trusting blindly to luck that it would not be
too deep. Bedraggled and wet, he crawled to the top
of the opposite bank and yelled to us to follow him.

We crashed through the rushes and swarmed into
the stream in a happy-go-lucky manner. The other
bank shelved up a trifle to a small dry patch. On that
site we spent the night. In other circumstances we
should have given it a wide berth, for, surrounded as
it was by an evil-smelling, desolate waste of still water,
it was enough to provoke a host of virulent epidemics.
The taste of the water was as bad as its aroma, and,
to make matters worse, it swarmed with mosquitoes.

There was many a malediction heard in the tents

OVER THE ROCHE MIETTE 8i

that night, and many a furious battle with the persistent
insects which swarmed to the attack. But we drank
the water, which was more polluted than the effluent
from an up-to-date sewage farm, without a thought of
what might happen, for we were too tired to worry
about such trifles. Still, we felt pretty sore when, after
supper, one of the boys wandering round called out
that the Athabaska was only fifty yards ahead. We
had been grotesquely cutting circles and other designs in
that swamp for about two hours, and all the time were
within a stone's throw of the river, the shore of which
offered an excellent camping-spot. Such is the luck of
the trail.

We were astir early next morning, thanks to the
persistence of the pestilential mosquitoes and the nausea
of the slough, and pressed along the Athabaska river.
Before we had gone fifty yards along the bank we picked
up the trail we had missed, and the leader was pretty
healthily congratulated upon his eyesight, and strongly
recommended to invest in a pair of powerful magnifying
glasses when he got back to Edmonton.

That day we had another slow and fatiguing wrestle
with muskeg, rock and deadfall, intermingled with
arduous climbs up and down mountain flanks. There
are two trails — one on either side of the river — ^and had
we crossed the Athabaska at the Eoche Miette we
should have struck the easier one, which runs through
tolerably level country. But it was useless to bemoan
our ill luck. We had to cross the river shortly at all
events, and pushed forward as fast as possible in order
to do so that day. The toil of the trail, however, was
compensated by the magnificent views we were able to
obtain from repeated elevations — the white fang of
Mount Geikie, towering up 11,000 feet into the clouds,
and from our side presenting a solid wall of snow with
a square-shaped crest, being particularly conspicuous
and beautiful.

82 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

We had been wandering slowly along for some four
hours when the trail gave a sudden dip, and we came
to the river level once more. The sight of a shack
and a railed-in pasture spurred us on in the hope of
seeing a living soul outside our own little party. We
rode smartly up, only to be arrested by an aspect of
absolute vacancy. The owners had gone. They were
a small party of half-breeds, one of whom, the eldest
daughter, we were somewhat anxious to meet, for we
had heard that she was an inveterate and expert poker
player, who had never known defeat, and had bled
white men from far and near of their savings. One of
our party was burning to lower her colours, and bitter
was his chagrin when he found that he had drawn a
blank.

At this point we had to cross the Athabaska, which
here is about 600 feet wide, and rushes along at about
eight miles an hour. One of the boys scouted down
the bank and discovered a dilapidated Indian dug-out,
with which he essayed to cross the river to discover
the condition of the landing on the opposite shore.
While he was absent the owner of the canoe turned up
and wanted to know, with much carmine embellish-
ment, who had commandeered his vessel, as he was in
a hurry to get across. He somewhat resented our action,
but calmed down when he found that his vapourings
were only being wasted on the air. His wrath was
completely turned aside by an invitation to supper.

The next morning early, preparations were hurried
forward to cross the waterway. A collapsible canoe
had been secured, and this, with the crazy dug-out,
served for the transportation of the baggage, a pro-
ceeding that occupied four hours. Then came the most
exciting incident of the enterprise — the driving across
of the horses. They had to swim for it, and it was
an active half-hour.

A rope corral was built around a slope down the

OVER THE ROCHE MIETTE 83

bank into the water, and in this the horses were cor-
nered. When all was ready, the packers suddenly took
leave of their senses. They indulged in blood-curdling
yells, which would have startled a mummy, and jumped
and danced in a manner that would have put the Indian
to shame. The horses, taking fright, made for the
water, the packers hallooing and shouting more fero-
ciously than ever. But the bank of the Athabaska juts
out a little below, and the leading horse, catching sight
of this protuberance, made for it, with the others in his
train, pursued by the yelling men on the bank, who
endeavoured to head them off. Their demoniacal yells
and gesticulations were fruitless, however; the horses
gained the bank and stampeded into the bush. Then
ensued a lively interlude rounding-up the animals and
herding them into the corral once more. Further yelling,
dancing and shrieking, fiercer than before, and again
the horses took to the water to escape. To prevent a
repetition of the preceding attempt, one of the boys
pushed out in the dug-out, and there, adrift the stream,
waving his arms like a maniac in a manner that
threatened a capsize into the river every moment, drove
the leading horses into the centre of the waterway,
where, owing to the velocity of the current, the animals
were soon engaged in a fierce struggle. Drifting some-
what, blowing like whales, and almost exhausted, they
contrived to make the bank, on which they stood
trembling as the result of their trying experience.
Crossing a furious river like the Athabaska is full of
danger to animals, but it is a risk which cannot be
eliminated from travelling through an unopened country.

I crossed in the frail, collapsible canvas canoe, and
as it ran into the bank a homy hand shot out to steady
me up the crumbling slope. I grabbed it tightly, and
the next instant was face to face with one of the most
celebrated characters between Edmonton and the Pacific
— Swift, the frontiersman.

CHAPTEK VII
Swift, the Frontiersman, and his Famous Ranch

An Immigrant from the States — The Spirit of Adventure — A First Failure
— Tobogganing on a Grold-Pan — Back at the Athabaska — Fetching
Supplies from Edmonton — Building a Flour-Mill — An Irrigation

System.

Unlike the majority of these pioneer settlers in the
backwoods, Swift has not lost the gift of conversation;
the silence of the forests has not dulled his spirits.
His life is one continuous romance; his industry, re-
Bourc© and ingenuity a striking object-lesson. H© can
relate stories and experiences of the bush accumulated
during a lonely life of nearly a quarter of a century,
spiced with dramatic and humorous touches, to further
order. His hospitality is immense.

Swift is, or was, a citizen of the United States, but
he has been so long in the Dominion that he regards
himself as a thoroughbred Canadian. His father's home
was somewhere down Washington way, but the States
were not large enough for Young Hopeful. The spirit
of adventure defied quenching ; the desire to go to the
north could not be lived down. That he has had more
than his fair share of roughing it, has had his ups and
downs, and has been in some pretty tight corners at
times, his own life-story soon proves, while his weather-
beaten face tells its own tale of exposure to the elements
and the vicissitudes of climate. He is as hard as
nails, and is as much at home sleeping on a grassy
couch beneath a tree in the starlit abbey of nature as the
average Englishman between the sheets on a hair-spring

mattress.

84

SWIFT, THE FRONTIERSMAN 85

"How did I get hyar? Well, upon my soul, I can
hardly tell yar. I guess I jes' drifted hyar, that's all.
One day down home, when I war a young strapper,
I suddenly thought I'd like to go north somewhar — I
didn't much mind whar. That war thirty odd years
ago, and the State of Washington war not then what
it is to-day. Well, I wandered off on the trail with jes'
me gun and plug. I struck somewhat to the north-
east, and kep' ploddin' along until one day I fell in
with a bunch of hikers. They war goin' north too, so
I jes' joins 'em for company's sake. We jaunted along,
day after day, through the wilderness, never seein' a
soul bar one or two Indians now and agen. We crossed
the Kockies, and then struck due north. This country
at that time war quite unknown. The Canadian Pacific
war only just thought of, and the survey engineers hadn't
even got to the mountains ; Edmonton war a Hudson's
Bay post and no more.

"We made Edmonton, and thar the bunch broke up.
I got on to the Hudson's Bay trails, and my pard and I —
for I had picked up a chum — came through the Eockies
agen, cruised about a bit, struck Jasper House, which
was then doin' business, and came on here. Somethin'
seemed to draw me to this part, and although I went
off first this way and then that, I war always pulled up
by th' Athabaska Eiver jes' about hyar. At last, gettin'
a bit tired o' wandrin' aroun', my pard and I thought
we'd settle down and start farmin'. We staked off our
ground, ran up a bit of a shack, and set to work.

"But things didn't go right. My pard got in with
th' Indians, and let work at the farm slide while I was
out trappin'. At last the smash came. We had a few
plain words ; my pard went his way, and I went mine. 1
war determined that I would pay off all the debts and
make a fresh start, but as things didn't look very
promisin' hereabouts I went off prospectin'. I war a bit
lucky, and at last war able to square up what we owed,

86 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

and cast about to settle down once more. This district
called me agen, and afore I had bin cruisin' about long,
hyar I war on th' Athabaska. I squatted down on th'
old farm, which had gone astray, and made a fresh start
with a clean sheet.

"But I'll tell yar an amusin' little thing as happened
while we war out prospectin'. I fell in with another old
guy on the same game — lookin' for gold. We went to-
gether jes' for company like, and got right up on the
mount'ns, whar we stayed all the summer. We war
makin' our way back into th* valley with our gold-pan,
shovel, pick, and other kit on our back. On th* way
we struck a sheet of snow, and my pard got a bit in-
genious like. He warn't goin* to walk ; he war going to
terboggan down that snow-shoot — it 'ud save 'is feet a
bit. Well, he untied his gold-pan, sat down in it, doubled
up his legs so that his feet rested on the rim, packed his
pick this side and his shovel that, with the rest of his
outfit bundled up under his knees.

"He started off, but he hadn't gone many yards down
the slide before summut war up. That blarmed gold-
pan, instead of goin' straight down like a respectable
sledge, started spinnin' roun' like a top. As it shot down,
it whizzed roun' faster and faster. The prospector lost
his balance, his feet shot into th* air, and thar he war
careerin' down iyin' on his back, yellin' and cussin' to
beat the band. First his kit shot out on one side, then
his shovel on th' other, while his pick went off somewhar
else. I laughed till my sides ached, and my roars made
my pard more furious than ever. Presently the pan got
up to top speed, pitched him head first out, an' he went
roUin' over and over until he pulled up against a bank
o' snow. As for the gold-pan, that kept on goin', and we
never saw it agen. My pard picked hisself up, rubbed
hisself like fury ; and when I came up to him he war
still swarin' and cussin' worse 'n an Indian, for he war
nothin' else but bruises from top to bottom. No more

SWIFT, THE FRONTIERSMAN 87

war sed about shootin' a snow-slide on a gold-pan, I can
tell yar. It war a sore p'int with him."

Swift, according to his own statement, squatted down
in this district about five-and-twenty years ago. It was
hard going at first, for he was pretty well all alone,
save for a few Indians and one or two half-breeds in
Jasper Park. He staked off some 2,000 acres on the
hill-side, which gradually slopes down from the feet of
the mountains, hemming him in behind, to the river's
bank, giving him a nice stretch of tolerably open flat near
the water. The country was covered for the most part
with poplar and cotton wood, with a few large Douglas
firs here and there. In order to secure a constant supply
of pure, fresh water, he pitched his shack beside a rush-
ing creek rising amid the snows of Pyramid Mountain,
the four-sided, pointed white peak of which just peeps
over a mountain wall and keeps its eye on his back door
from a height of 8,000 feet. His tools comprised an axe
and hammer. With these he shaped some respectable
logs and built his shack, chinking the interstices with
moss, and crudely shingling the roof. At the front the
roof projects, forming a stoep where he receives visitors,
for no passer-by omits, under any pretence, to look up
Swift, a rough welcome, the swopping of a few yarns,
items of news and bush gossip serving to break the
monotony of life in the wilderness.

As his personal requirements in regard to the neces-
sities of life were few, he only cultivated about two acres
of land. This is within a stone's throw of his home, and
on practically level surface; the remainder was largely
used for grazing purposes. But Swift practised no half-
methods. When he had got a roof over his head and
had broken his plot of ground, he trudged off to Edmon-
ton, about 350 miles distant, for supplies. He bought
provisions, seeds for his land, and a few head of cattle,
which he drove home over the trail, making them swim
the Athabaska. This in itself was an undertaking from

88 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

which many men would have shrunk, and he paints
vivid pictures of the difficulties he encountered with his
stock during that tedious drive over the execrable, littered,
narrow path.

On arriving home at last, he seeded his ground
with vegetables and what not. Planting finished, he set
to work upon improvements, and to-day uses the very
tools he then contrived with so much effort, and at the
expenditure of considerable inventiveness. He felled a
huge fir having a solid cylindrical trunk. A section about
6 feet long and about 2 feet in diameter was cut out and
turned into a roller, the shafts being crudely fashioned
from small straight jack pine. His plough and harrow
are likewise fashioned primitively from wood, as are also
his other garden implements. He uses them to this
day, regarding his handiwork with justifiable pride, and
disdaining the idea of resorting to modern tools.

His greatest anxiety was in regard to his flour. This
commodity is weighty for transport, and large quantities
had to be brought in every time he made the trip to
Edmonton — a journey which, owing to its trials, dangers,
and laborious character, he only took about once a year.
Even then it entailed his absence from home for a month
or six weeks. At last he decided to attempt to solve this
problem himself by building a mill. He secured a small
corn grinder in Edmonton, and set to work to fashion a
waterwheel. That waterwheel is Swift's greatest
achievement. Bearing in mind the fact that the only
tools at his command were an axe, adze, saw, hammer
and nails, and that he was single-handed, his achievement
is a striking tour de force.

"It war a tough job and no error," Swift remarked as
he showed us his handiwork, "an' it took me more weeks
'n I can remember to rig it up, workin' from dawn to
twilight. But I never felt so proud of meself as when
I at last cried ' Done ! ' and threw down my tools. I war
not long in seein' whether it would work or not. I fixed

SWIFT, THE FRONTIERSMAN 89

up th' corn mill, yanked on the belt, and opened the
sluice. It war some little while 'fore the wheel gave any
signs o' movin', and I war half afraid that summut had
gone wrong somewhar, when thar war a creakin' and a
grindin', and it began to move. I let in more water, and
soon it war poundin' round steadily, an' the little pulley
on the corn mill war whizzin' round to beat th' band.
Then I didn't care a hang. When harvest time came
round I got my wheat in, threshed it as best I could, and
set th' box o' tricks to work. That flour was perfect.
Sure that wheel war a pretty tough proposition, but it
war the best summer's work I ever put in. What it has
meant to me you cannot guess, but I've not had to go to
Edmonton to fetch flour for ten years past, and that has
lifted a pretty heavy load off my mind, I can tell yar."

Swift, however, did not rest on his oars. The summer
sun is hot, and sometimes weeks will go by without a
drop of rain falling, and that just at the period when
the crops long for a drink. A failure of his crops would
spell disaster. Swift saw that, and was resolved to take
no chances. He drove a ditch from his tiny mill-pond
right through his cultivated patch from one end to the
other. On either side of this main channel he cut lateral
shallow trenches. Every one is fitted with a primitive
sluice gate at its junction with the main ditch, while the
latter is similarly fitted at the pond. When the ground
becomes somewhat parched. Swift just diverts a portion
of the water from the stream, sends it surging down the
main ditch, and then turns it on to the ground, flooding
the farm just when, where, and to what extent he deems
advisable.

When we arrived, his farm was a picture of flourish-
ing fertility. The vegetables were healthy and well
nourished, the potatoes of large size, and the corn in
first-class condition. Swift never knows what a shortage
is in his crops; irrigation, primitive though it may be,
has saved them time after time. "After I got these jobs

90 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

done," pointing to the improvements, "I only made that
700-mile trip to Edmonton and back once a year, travellin'
light jes' to fetch letters like," he chuckled. Witnessing
the many striking evidences of his enterprise ajid in-
genuity, I suggested that he should go on, harness the
creek a bit more, and generate his ovs^n electricity. " So
I vrould," he rapped back, "but I don't understand th'
blarmed thing. Th' juice beats me." As he accom-
panied these reflections with a ruminating scratch of his
head, I went away with the half-smothered idea that, if
he remained on his farm, he would set about electrically
lighting his shack before long.

CHAPTEE VIII
The Lonely Trail to the Yellowhead Pass

From the Athabaska to the Miette — A Delectable Supper — In a World
of Silence — Fertile Prairies in a Defile — Dominion Prairie — Baseball
with Bannock — An Adventure at Derr Creek.

Striking on from Swift's oasis in the wilderness, we
followed the rift in the range through which the
Athabaska flows swiftly, drawing nearer and nearer to
the solid, snow-covered wall, Mount Geikie, rising up
defiantly sheer before us directly ahead. The trail, fol-
lowing the cleared grade of the Grand Trunk Pacific,
became somewhat easier for a few miles, it only being
necessary to keep a sharp look-out for tree-stumps, against
which the pack-horses would stumble ever and anon. On
the southern side the river was hemmed in by the per-
pendicular serried bluffs of the Colin range, while on the
north side a similar battlemented array of cliffs over-
looked us. The view of Mount Geikie, standing out in
bold relief against the azure blue sky, however, was one
of exquisite beauty, and amply redeemed the constricted
range of vision on either hand.

Svnnging past the tumbled valley, its steep slopes
clothed in primeval, impenetrable forest, through which
the Maligne Eiver forces its mysterious way from Medi-
cine Lake nestling at the foot of the other side of the
Colin range, we dropped down to the water-side of the
Athabaska once more. A lonely grave in a small, railed-in
enclosure, where a whitened stone commemorated an un-
timely death by drowning in the surging river, once more
recalled the description we had heard uttered more than
once as to this waterway being a "holy fright." Then,

91

92 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

when it seemed as if the towering mountain in front cut
off all further progress, the trail reclimbed the northern
slope, and turned sharply to the west.

But we merely swung from one river to another. The
rushing Miette, of great width at its confluence with the
Athabaska, and boiling like a maelstrom, was now our
companion. The broad valley of the Athabaska gave way
to a narrower passage, the walls of which ran sharply up
from the edge of the river bank towards the clouds. It
IS a sombre defile. The mountain flanks are tumbled,
scrub-covered and littered with deadfall. The shadows
of the hills were thrown right across the trail,
wrapping it in a diffused light, but in the extreme dis-
tance, at the head of the gulch, rose three lofty pinnacles,
the snow caps of which gleamed brilliantly. For supper
that night we had some of the finest rainbow trout that
the mountain streams could yield, as two of the boys,
while camp was being pitched and the evening meal was
in preparation, wandered off up the hill-sides, following a
creek until they lighted upon two small lakes where the
fish were so plentiful and voracious that a score, ranging
in weight from 7 to 14 ounces apiece, were landed in half
an hour. These two lakes were literally crammed with
rainbow trout, and those of keen angling instincts were
somewhat disappointed that we pushed ahead early the
following morning.

We had now struck the lonely desolate trail in deadly
earnest. It had been bad before, but then we were all
the time in proximity to the railway construction camps,
and somehow the going felt easier. A certain volume of
trafiic had helped to beat down the track, while the roar
of rock-splitting dynamite, the chink-chink of drills, and
the spitting of steam were company. Now we were in a
silent world. The forest was hushed save for a long-
drawn-out sigh, as a puff of wind mournfully swished
through the trees. No pipe or twitter of a bird was to be
heard, for song birds do not venture into these wilds.

THE LONELY TRAIL 93

Now and again would be heard the croaking of a raven
perched on some bare, withered branch pushing its dismal
outhne against the sky, or the savage screech of a bald-
headed eagle as he hovered above us. The pervading soli-
tude was broken only by the murmuring of the Miette
or the roar of melted snows cascading down the steep
mountain slopes.

Up and down we laboriously threaded our way, now
slowly crawling along a loose, rock-strewn ledge, scarcely
defined, on the side of a hump, then ploughing madly
through a morass down by the river-side. We were pene-
trating the heart of the range. The mountains grew
more formidable around us, shooting upwards in terraces
of thickly wooded banks, mirroring all shades of green,
with here and there a snowy cone jutting above the timber
to offer striking contrast. As we pushed farther west the
defile grew more and more like a fissure, suddenly open-
ing out here and there into a large flat expanse smothered
with grasses, vetches and weeds, upon which the pack-
horses fell furiously — whenever they had the opportunity.
These little prairies are of small area, but will make ex-
cellent farms when the country is rendered accessible.
The bottom is saucer-like, the lowest point being heavily
waterlogged and boggy, but a trench through the rim will
empty this superfluous moisture into the river or creek
flowing near by. They are covered with scrub, dank
and tangled, which, however, can be quickly cleared by
fire. The soil is really decomposed vegetable matter, and
when drained will prove of extraordinary fertility.

Being aware of the characteristic canniness of the
Western pioneer in grabbing land which has any pre-
tensions to agricultural value, if not to farm himself, to
hold as a speculation, it seemed somewhat strange that
these flats had not been appropriated , for of this we could
see no signs. One night some wanderers on the trail
struck our camp. As we were chatting round the fire,
after disposing of a substantial rude evening meal, I

94 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

remarked upon this apparent apathy of the enterprising
Westerner.

"Don't you worry, sonny," was the reply. "All these
likely spots have been well looked over and sized up.
It's too much trouble to homestead just at the moment,
but a sharp eye is being kept on them ready for seizure
when the railway comes along."

The trail clings tenaciously to the Miette, and though
the mountains of the same name, clothed with timber
from the water's edge to the line where vegetation ceases
to exist, shut in our view to the south, we had inspiring
glimpses straight ahead. The three white cones we had
espied when we swerved away from the Athabaska still
loomed up before us. We toiled up humps, and dropped
into abysses at the other side, wound round this spur and
laboured up that, but those three peaks could not be
evaded, though they seemed to approach no nearer. Their
persistent jutting into the blue sky whetted our curiosity,
and one evening, after camp, we tediously climbed foot
over foot, sliding and slipping over deadfall piled six and
eight feet high, up a steep slope for some 500 feet to
secure an uninterrupted view of their scarred flanks. It
was a hard pull, but we were well rewarded, for we gained
a bare shoulder from which we could see right up the
valley, which was no more than a sharp V — as if a wedge
had been driven into the mountains by cyclopean fury —
garbed in green trees down each limb, with the silver
streak of the Miette in the inverted apex. We were look-
ing through the defile along which the trail wound like a
snake, admitting to the Yellowhead Pass, and these three
grim peaks, the jagged teeth of a formidable range, were
standing sentinel over the gulch. Looking behind, w^e
could see nothing but the two steeply sloping walls rising
to 6,000 feet or more on either side, and forming a gloomy
alley, all the gloomier at the moment as the bottom was
wrapped in the darkness of approaching night. It was
just as narrow a passage ahead, but, lit by the last slanting

THE LONELY TRAIL 95

rays of the setting sun, striking through a narrow side
gorge, and bathing rock, snow, tree and bush in a galaxy
of soft tints which no palette could faithfully record, it
was an enchanting picture.

The bottom of this narrow defile was so depressing,
owing to constriction of outlook, that we pushed forward
energetically until we emerged upon Dominion Prairie,
which is first an exasperating stretch of marsh , conducive
neither to rapid progress nor to the maintenance of
good temper, but which afterwards became drier and
easier. We hastened through the grass, four or five feet in
height, among burned and scorched carcases of jack pine,
to be pulled up by an unexpected obstacle. We had been
enjoying several days of sweltering hot weather, which
had melted the snows on the mountains, and had swollen
Derr Creek, the conduit for this glacial water into the
Miette, to an exceptional degree. We had been antici-
pating flood water from our experience in crossing the
Miette some distance below, for the trail drops uncere-
moniously into the river four times in three miles in order
to avoid steep rocky bluffs, which tumble to the water's
edge too abruptly to be rounded on dry land. But to find
Derr Creek tearing along with mad velocity, a mass of
foam, sweeping boulders, trees and what not before it
as contemptuously as if they were straws, was something
upon which we had not counted. We pitched camp
early in the afternoon to make a thorough reconnais-
sance of the river, since the regular ford was absolutely
impassable.

After supper we scoured round for some diversion.
Then the party lighted upon some remnants of bannock,
cooked a week or so before, and of the shape of dough-
nuts or dumplings. The first was picked up and thrown
disgustedly against a tree. The ball didn't break, but
the bark was chipped. That gave the discoverer an idea.
Smiling contentedly, he picked up the bannock, rum-
maged out a short club, and sailed up with these articles

96 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

to the remainder of the company who were smoking round
the camp fire.

" Say, boys, how about a round at baseball? "
"Eight, you find the ball, and we're game! "
"Here you are ! " And he tossed the globe of petri-
fied flour and baking-powder into the group.

There was a yell of mirth, but the shriek was ten
times louder when one of the boys threw the solidified
aggregation at the batsman, who, with a mighty swipe,
sent it hurtling for about fifty yards and recovered his
"ball " uninjured ! That ball gave us a solid half-hour's
amusement, until one unlucky crack caught it on a vulner-
able spot and broke it in halves. Baseball with bannock
was the cause of many a chuckle during the rest of the
journey.

We had a lively time negotiating Derr Creek. The
packers, by dint of much ferreting and sounding, had
found an easier point for crossing. It was deep, and the
water tore along viciously, spitting round the horses'
flanks. More than one animal was swung into a hole
and plunged wildly for a few seconds, until his feet re-
gained the bottom.

Marsh and meadow were now our lot for a few miles,
and then, the ground becoming softer and softer, we were
driven towards the mountain wall to seek drier land,
where the going, though more up and down, was some-
what easier than ploughing our way through dangerous
sloughs. Indeed, we could not have traversed the latter
had we so desired, for we saw where the surveying
engineers, in their plotting of the line, had been having
a pretty stiff tussle in the bog. Then the mountains on
the north began to press on the Miette, forcing us to its
bank, and plunging us into more difficulties among loose
rock, bog-holes, and heavy deadfall. The barrier loom-
ing up more and more immediately before us indicated
only too forcibly that we should be called upon presently
to ford the river, and after wandering for a little while

TOASTING UNDER DIFFICULTIES.

TKe bush chef's kitchen fire and primitive fork — a cleft stick
cut from a willow.

THE LONELY TRAIL 97

among the back waters, we at last emerged on a low
bank of shingle, shelving gradually into the river. The
Miette proper at this point is little wider than an average
English brook, but, owing to its sudden grade, runs down-
hill with savage speed. There is a general belief that
rapidly flowing streams are shallow. However true that
may be in regard to respectable, well-ordered and known
waters in the home country, it certainly does not apply
to the backwood rivers of Canada, as I found to my cost.

The river is littered with log-jams, round which the
water curls and eddies. The leading horse passed over,
and the water scarcely reached above its fetlocks. My
pack-horse, while fording, suddenly became somewhat
enterprising, and started off on a side exploration, with
the result that it slipped off the ford, and landed in deep
water. The brute kicked and struggled, but the more it
plunged the deeper it got into difficulty. It could not
regain its feet, hampered with me on its back, and the
treacherous current threw both of us into a hole against
a log-jam. There the water attempted to force us round
the edge of the obstruction, with its current swinging
along at about twelve miles an hour, and so, to assist the
horse, I decided to cast off and gain the bank along the
massive tree against which I was pinned. But no sooner
had I swung one foot clear of the stirrup than the wicked
undertow caught me, twisted me round, and left me
hanging by my fingers on the end of the trunk. I
tried to draw myself up on to the log, but the pace of the
water was too much, and I felt myself slowly slipping, my
finger nails cutting into the wood and my legs absolutely
incapable of muscular effort. Luckily Lett, one of the
party, turned round on his horse and saw my predicament.
In a flash he sprang off his horse, and was walking rapidly
along the tree trunk, which groaned and creaked under
his weight.

"Lookout! You'll have both of us in," I yelled. But
he came on.

H

98 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

Just as my j&ngers gave another slip of an inch or
so round the tree, he grabbed me by the collar and pulled
hke grim death. But there was no impression. The
suck of the water was too powerful, while the glacial
temperature had deprived my legs of all power to co-
operate. He made another lunge.

"Up ! Oo — 00 — 00 ! Now then ! " Saying which he
gave a savage tug, and got me higher on the log, when
I was able to assist him, though that rotting trunk was
bending and creaking ominously. Had he been a minute
later, there would have been a wooden cross stuck up on
the bank of the Miette, for no swimmer could have lived
five minutes in those waters.

When I got ashore my legs were completely numbed,
and the icy coldness prevented the return of circulation
for some little time. I got astride my pack-horse with
difficulty. Now it was as docile as a lamb, and the pic-
ture of innocence. It never attempted any further un-
rehearsed circus performances while I was on its back.

Now the trees of the endless forest became taller,
nobler, and of greater girth as we advanced. We were
approaching the eastern portal to British Columbia. The
ground sloped up gradually. We climbed the acclivity
and called a halt. There, under the gigantic firs, through
which the brilliant sunshine with difficulty forced its way,
we stood beside a small post, no more than four feet in
height, a silent monument of years of untiring effort on the
part of engineering enterprise, in which British energy
has played no inconspicuous part, for it marks the highest
point to which the steel track of the Grand Trunk Pacific
will be lifted in its span of 3,556 miles between the
Atlantic and Pacific Oceans — the Yellowhead Pass.

CHAPTER IX
Picking up the Source of the Fraser River

The Yellowhead Pass — Derivation of this and other Names — The Yellow-
head Lake and its Trout — A Bad Character among Rivers — A
Fierce Trail — Two of the Horses get " Snagged " — Crossing the
Moose River — Alongside the Moose Lake — Canadian Distances.

At the mention of the word "mountain pass " popular
imagination conjures up a defile, a few feet in width,
winding tortuously between two mountain walls running
up perpendicularly for several hundred feet, shadowing
the bottom of the gulch, through which a tumultuous
river is speeding its cascading way in gloom. How-
ever true such a description may be of some mountain
passes, it certainly does not apply to the Yellowhead,
which measures about one thousand feet from side to
side. Indeed, you would never know that you were at
the "pass" if you failed to observe that the Miette on
your right hand when you face the north is running
east to swell the Atlantic, while on your left the streams
turn westward to the Pacific — except, indeed, for that
insignificant four-foot post, merely a squared, slender
tree-stump. Even if it caught your eye you would be
somewhat perplexed probably by the hieroglyphics in-
scribed on one of its faces, thus : —

L.B. M. 3720.
G. T. P.

They indicate the surveying engineer's crowning triumph ,
and show where the Rocky Mountains will be threaded
by the iron road at a lower altitude than has ever been
achieved before. Interpreted, it means: "Location

99

100 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

Bench Mark, 3,720 feet above sea-lsvel. Grand Trunk
Pacific." One cannot help contrasting the engineer's
achievement in this latitude with that many hundred
miles to the south, in Colorado, where in order to carry
the railway over the same formidable range the metals
had to be lifted to an altitude of some 10,000 feet above
the ocean-level.

There is much speculation as to how and why these
rifts through the Eockies have received their curious
appellations. Yet the explanation is very simple, for
there is concealed beneath the apparently irrelevant and
sometimes bizarre nomenclature some little incident
whereby the cognomen was suggested. The Yellow-
head Pass was so christened by the Indians because a
famous trapper in the service of Jasper Hawes, at the
Hudson's Bay outpost in Jasper Park, flitted to and
fro through this breach in the mountain wall between
the post and the Eraser Eiver, whereby he reached Fort
George, some 400 miles distant to the west. He was
an Iroquois of huge stature and physique, blessed with
flowing locks of bright auburn hair, and the Indians,
with their quaint aptitude, promptly dubbed him "Tete
Jaune," while the path he followed through the moun-
tains became known as the "Pass of Tete Jaune,"
afterwards turned into its briefer English equivalent,
"Yellowhead Pass."

The various other passes in this range can point
to equally relevant reasons for the names they bear.
The "Pine River" Pass was so called owing to the
mountain slopes being clothed with dense stretches of
firs ; the Wapiti Pass because of the large w^apiti deer
in its neighbourhood ; the Peace Eiver Pass because
it was the scene of a pow-wow and conclusion of peace
between opposing bands of Indians after a fierce, pro-
longed battle ; Moberly's Pass from the fact that Mr.
Walter Moberly, C.E., found this path through the
mountains for the Canadian Pacific. Eoger's Pass is

SOURCE OF THE ERASER RIVER loi

named after Major A. B. Rogers, who, after many priva-
tions and adventurous experiences, first threaded this
defile in 1881 ; Eagle Pass from an eagle which, by its
flight, showed a way through the apparently solid wall
to Mr. Walter Moberly, who, after a wearisome search
on foot, had failed to find a single break in the barrier.
The Kicking Horse Pass has probably occasioned the
greatest discussion, the most generally accepted theory
being that at this point an American survey engineer,
named Randolph, received a severe kick on the knee
from his horse while trying to force his way through
the mountains. My own investigations point to a totally
different origin. The pass was used by traders long
before Randolph arrived, being, in fact, a somewhat
favoured highway to the coast. While one of the pack
trains was passing through the rift, at that time un-
named, two uncontrollable bronchos ran amok, threw
the whole train into sixes and sevens, every animal parti-
cipating in the general disorder, and each landing out
with its feet in all directions at every and any thing.
It was only with great difficulty that quiet was restored,
and the traders, whenever referring to that locality,
always mentioned it as the "Pass where the horses
kicked," and this, in time, became condensed into
"Kicking Horse Pass."

The vegetation changed with startling suddenness,
for tall, imposing firs, as straight as arrows, towered
a couple of hundred feet or so above us, while the bush
was thickly matted with the tall fire-weed or wild
honesty, whose spikes of pink gave the ground a glorious
carpet. Here again, unfortunately, fire had wrought
widespread damage, for the trees stood gaunt and life-
less, with bark shed in large patches like Jagged skin
abrasions, showing the hard wood underneath in a silvery
coat produced by the action of weather.

Presently a gigantic mirror flashed through the trees.
We were rounding the eastern arm of Yellowhead Lake,

102 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

which from its idyllic situation, clear, transparent
hue, and reflection of snow-capped battlements and
pinnacles, may be aptly described as the Lucerne of
British Columbia. We skirted the north side and
secured a glorious view of Mount Peelee rearing its
crest above the green sea, the white snow on its summit
contrasting vividly with its variegated rocky flanks, the
strata of which reflect myriad colours from the minerals
which enter into their formation. Only its head could
be seen, as a rich forest garbed the ridge, dropping
steeply into the lake. These waters are alive with trout,
among which may be found some patriarchs of the
Dolly Varden and rainbow varieties. Angling from the
bank returned us no luck, however, owing to the trans-
parency and shallowness of the water, but when we
unearthed a flimsy log raft, evidently used by some
trapper in the bygone days, and one of the most
daring of the company poled off with a line trolling
behind, he soon hooked a splendid three-pounder, which
recompensed him for a shaky journey and threatened
foundering of his crazy craft.

The trail wound along the rough bank to the western
end of the lake, where the outlet, a shallow brook,
flows a few hundred yards through the trees and then
bends sharply westward to join another creek. We had
struck one of the sources and the confluence of the
most ill-famed, albeit the most inspiring, the noblest
and longest river in British Columbia — the Fraser. The
arm we followed was quiet enough, but its other limb
was a tumbling, rushing mountain torrent, and such
the river is for the whole of its 700 odd miles. We had
picked up one of the sources of this famous river near
its birth at the pass, traced it into Yellowhead Lake,
and thence out again at the opposite end. For the
next 400 miles or so we clung to this waterway —
because we were compelled for the most part — and
so we were able to follow its growth from a mere ditch

SOURCE OF THE ERASER RIVER 103

but a few inches in width to an estuary miles across.
Simon Fraser when he first hghted on this waterway,
thinking it the Columbia, called it the "Bad Kiver."
Such it is in very truth.

Even in the upper reaches those few pioneers and
traders who are unavoidably brought into contact with
it evince for it a great respect, and with good reason.
When the two limbs in which it has its rise meet, the
river rapidly assumes a more imposing width and com-
mences to foam and boil. A short distance below the
confluence it makes a sharp right-angled turn, shooting
round the corner with fearful velocity, and forming a
vicious whirlpool in the eddy. Then come lengths of
rapids where the steeply falling grade gives the water
a fierce impetus, provoking a sea of short, choppy
wavelets curling in foam. So it is the whole way to the
sea — whirlpools, canons, falls and rapids, and it demands
a skilful navigator indeed to wend his way through such
treacherous waters.

Its roar was a constant accompaniment to our move-
ment. But the trail was fierce. Now we were crawling
gingerly along a ledge, only a few inches in width, cut
in the face of a cliff. Trees and boulders freely dis-
puted our progress. A little later we were in mud
among dense undergrowth, keeping a sharp eye for an
unlucky blow from a "devil's club," a plant whose
broad, flat leaves and branches carry at their outer end
a small bristly sphere. The tendrils trail aimlessly along
the ground, and should you tread on one, the spiky
bludgeon may fly up and give you a jarring blow, in-
flicting a nasty wound. One of the packers was so
unfortunate as to receive such a blow on the cheek,
and he was troubled with an inflamed, suppurating
wound for days.

The trail became worse and worse as the ground
became more rocky and precipitous. The horses had to
perform unrehearsed feats. More than once an almost

104 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

perpendicular descent became imperative. The trail led
into a cul-de-sac between rocks. There was a sharp
hairpin bend, and not enough space for the animal to
turn round. To get round the bend it had to warp and
hop in an extraordinary manner. The bend negotiated,
there was a steep, angular slide down which it would
toboggan, then another similar hairpin bend, more
sliding and warping in turns, until at last it pulled up
in a mud hole or flung the rider sideways against a tree.
You looked behind, and there was the trail winding up the
hill-side in a series of Z's piled one on top of the other.
The ascent was the same, only if anything more tiring,
since the acclivity was too steep to attempt to ride.

On this stretch we met with what might be described
as our first serious mishap. While attempting to jump
an uprooted tree, one of the horses got "snagged" —
impaled by one of the short, bayonet-pointed dead
branches. The accident was not discovered until more
than an hour afterwards, when curiosity was aroused
by a trail of fresh blood. A search along the train
found the animal limping along in agony, and weak
from loss of blood. Examination revealed a terrible
wound, from which a jagged splinter some three inches
in length was withdrawn. The injury was temporarily
bathed, the load removed from the animal's back, and
it was allowed to follow slowly along in our wake till
camp was pitched, when a thorough dressing was effected.
The following morning the poor brute was stiff, weak,
and still suffering, so our pace was reduced to a mere
crawl.

Grant Brook was forded with difficulty, for the
rushing stream was like a millrace, so that the horses
had a lively crossing. The valley was depressing, though
the thick bush offered us some welcome shelter from
the fierce summer sun blazing from a cloudless sky.
On the other hand, when we were on an elevation we
were given extensive views of romantic scenery. The

^w^'fj^'p

SOURCE OF THE ERASER RIVER 105

north bank of the river, along which we were limping,
is a broken succession of ridges bending from the main
range, with its castellated summits, fantastically carved
by Nature, standing out bare and grim from the devas-
tation of bush fires and rock slides. The south bank
ran up from the water's edge at a stiff slope, and was
a wealth of green timber where the fire fiend had wrought
scarcely any havoc, with here and there silvery ribbons
winding in and out where the melting snows were
cascading from crag to crag, from 60 to 150 feet apart,
with a loud purring into the Fraser below.

Two prospectors on their gaunt horses passed us on
the trail speeding Edmonton wards. They pulled up for
a brief conversation, and vouchsafed the intelligence
that Moose River required careful crossing, as it was in
high flood, and scarcely fordable. They advised us to
push on so as to cross before four o'clock, when it
would begin to rise. We accepted their advice and
hurried our horses. But we were doomed to disappoint-
ment. At the ford the river is about 150 feet wide,
and when we arrived the water was rushing along
with torrential fury. Soundings gave a depth of about
six feet, and with a current swirling so fiercely it was
possible that the smaller horses might get washed off
their feet, and at any rate the packs would get wet, if
some were not lost.

That was certain, said the packers, and a halt to
permit the waters to fall a few inches was decided
upon. These rivers assume their greatest depth and
fiercest disposition in midsummer, and as we had been
experiencing several days of almost tropical heat, the
melting of the snows up in the mountains had been
unduly heavy, hence the rise in the river. We did not
anticipate a de^ay of more than a few hours, but it
resolved itself into a wait of four days in a most in-
hospitable spot, on a flat void of all shelter and infested
with mosquitoes and bull-dog flies.

io6 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

The " hold-up " was seized as an opportunity to
permit the lame horse to recuperate somewhat under
careful nursing and dressing of his injury. Then another
mishap occurred. One of the best animals, in cantering
through the brush after being turned loose, got snagged
in the eye by a dead branch. When the horse was
discovered the eye was invisible, the socket and lid
fearfully inflamed and bleeding. Careful examination
showed no sign of the eyeball, and it was feared that
it had been jabbed out. Two animals were now hors
de combat.

There was a narrow, deep gulch in the Kainbow
Mountains through which the Moose Kiver flowed, and
we struck up the waterway to search for another point
of crossing. It was a matter of about half a mile to the
defile as the crow flies, but it took us a solid hour
and a half to reach the point, slipping and sliding among
gaunt, prone trunks with their bristling snags. When
we reached the ravine we found the width of the river
narrowed to about a third of what it was down below,
and here the troubled waters in flood were thundering
in a torment after pouring over a ledge some fifty feet
in height in a beautiful fall. The canon is one of wild
beauty, for the poplar, spruce and pine rise up from
the water's edge. With the greatest difficulty we
swarmed along the side of the gulch to where the waters
pour through a channel scarcely twenty feet in width.
Conversation was impossible, for the roar of the cascade
drowned all shouts. At the top of the fall, which is
lined on either side by huge rocks, we found that a
crude bridge had been thrown across by the survey
engineers, merely by lopping down three trees so that
they stretched the chasm, for the railway is to run
across the mouth of the canon. Just what horse-power
is running to waste at this point only the engineer
can say, but an estimate of 10,000 would not be
an exaggeration, for the river falls very rapidly to

HOW WE CROSSED

A frail bridge of fe

THE MOOSE RIVER.

the brink of the

d trees dropped across
waterfall.

SOURCE OF THE ERASER RIVER 107

the rift, and the whole volume has to pass over the
ledge.

The bridge appeared so frail that at first there was
hesitancy in trusting thereto, especially as the brink of
the fall was barely three feet below, and a slip would
mean — well, a pretty good ducking at the least. A few
strokes of the axe and two more trees lay across the
gap. One ventured over, and though the bridge bent and
creaked ominously, and demanded a little Blondin-like
dexterity to preserve equilibrium, it was decided that
no further delay should be caused by the swollen river,
but that we should let the pack train swim the torrent
the next day, ourselves following by the bridge.

Up early the following morning, w© found the river
higher than ever, so while six of us set out on the toil
to the falls, the packers got ready to ford or swim,
trusting to luck to negotiate the waters safely. As our
detour of three miles would occupy about two hours, we
set off immediately after breakfast and reached the
bridge. It was slimy and wet from spray, and our
crossing would have afforded illimitable opportunities to
a cartoonist. The first went boldly, waving his arms
like a frantic windmill to preserve his balance, for it
was no more than inches wide ; the second crawled
across with his eyes shut; the next went on all fours
like a cat ; another poled it ; his successor bravely set
out to walk normally, but half-way across changed his
mind and went on all fours, for the slippery surface
of the trees could not be trusted.

Rejoining the pack-train, which had got across safely,
and fortunately with but little damage, we resumed our
"hike," That day was destined to be the hardest we
experienced ; the going was the worst which it had been
our ill-luck to fall against, for the trail was the most
execrable of the whole 250 miles. It wound along the
north bank of the Moose Lake, which is really an en-
largement of the Fraser River to about one mile at the

io8 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

broadest part, over a basin about seven and a half miles
long. The man who first guided his horse along its
banks must have started out boldly, and, after going
a few miles, must have swum to the opposite end of
the sheet of water. He who came in his wake followed
his predecessor's footsteps to the water's edge, then
swam a little, and espying a favourable stretch of dry
land, took to the bank again, dropping into the
water when progress on land was difficult. Briefly
summed up, there is no trail in the Indian's sense of
the word — and on such questions the red man is the
greatest authority. The country is too broken and rocky,
for it appears as if the top of the Eainbow Mountains
at some time or other had been cut off and pushed
bodily over, littering the shelf by the waterside with
debris.

To traverse this twelve or fifteen miles the pack-train
became amphibious. We swung through a muskeg, then
crawled to the top of a ridge, climbing and falling over
huge trees which had been levelled by wind and fire,
and creeping among rocks. Then the path dropped
suddenly downhill, and came to the water's edge. The
horse had to take to the water, walking as long as he
was able. And it was not as if he could follow
the lake bank. The shore was littered too extensively
with driftwood, and one had to strike boldly towards
the middle of the lake to get round such obstructions.
Progress was painfully slow, the heat of the sun intense,
and after about four hours' steady pegging along, first
in water then on land, we seemed as far off as ever
from the opposite end.

There is nothing so galling as Canadian distances in
the Far West. The clearness of the atmosphere renders
calculation by eye illusory. Even the Indians and the
few persons you meet can give you no reliable in-
formation ; they have no means of judging. They simply
guess by the time it takes them to travel from one

SOURCE OF THE ERASER RIVER 109

point to another. And they have precious httle idea
of time, too. They calculate that their horse can do
three miles an hour. If that horse covers six or eight
miles in the sixty minutes they still conclude that he has
only traversed three miles. Consequently a New British
Columbian mile is the longest that has ever yet been
brought into use, completely eclipsing the Scottish, the
Irish and the Sussex miles.

Even the horses wearied of this continual dropping
into and emerging from the water. One pack-horse,
after about the fifth incursion, started swimming boldly
down the lake. Others were going to follow his lead,
when we espied the move. They had our bedding on
their backs, and we had visions of a dripping couch that
night. We shouted and yelled, but it was not until a
packer started to head it off that the animal could be
dissuaded from its enterprise.

Four o'clock found us still a considerable distance
from the lake end. Our pace dropped to about one mile
an hour, and when we did at last plunge boldly into
the burnt forest among the scrub , leaving the lake behind ,
no one was sorry. Eight o'clock had passed before we
descried a wreath of blue smoke curling lazily through
the trees, and a few minutes later we emerged on a
little flat, where a prospector in solitary state was just
finishing his supper, for he too had had a hard day's
ride, from the opposite direction. It was nine o'clock
before we settled down to our meal. We had been on
the trail twelve hours, travelling the whole time to
cover less than fifteen miles !

CHAPTER X
Mount Robson

The Rainbow Mountains — A Danger Point — Our Introduction to Mount
Robson — The Canadian Mecca of Mountaineers — A Story of the Man
who chrnbed It — Lake Helena — Site of Mackenzie's Hotel — Famine
Prices — A " Hiker " — Approaching Tete Jaune Cache.

We were considerably relieved to learn, however, from
our prospecting fellow-camper that we had covered
practically the worst of the trail. A good night's sound
sleep greatly refreshed our party, though during the
hours of darkness the weather had completely changed,
and it was a cold, murky, wet morning when we crawled
out of our blankets. We pulled out early, and within
half an hour were wrestling grimly with the deadfall.
The trail wound in and out like S's laid on end, and in
many places almost complete circles, one hundred yards
in diameter, were described to go twenty yards as the
crow flies.

Then we struck a recently burnt-out stretch where
the trees had come down, obliterating the trail entirely,
and presenting a scene of absolute ruin, with the trunks
piled in all kinds of ways. The leaders picked their
path carefully, first in this direction then in that,
hewing and cutting a passage for the animals, doubling
and redoubling in the most amazing manner. The
Rainbow range of mountains — so called from the varied
tints of the mineral rocks, ranging from red through
greens and yellows to blues — walled us in. The valley
grew narrower and narrower as the serrated ridges on
either side of the Fraser inclined towards each ether.
The river itself became somewhat constricted, and,

MOUNT ROBSON m

having a rapid fall through this delSile, rushed boister-
ously along. Now and again a long-drawn-out roar,
in crescendo and diminuendo in turn, could be heard
above the music of the river, as. some rock-slide or
avalanche hurried down the steep precipices into the
valley. The manner in which the river twisted and
writhed was bewildering, the turns being exceedingly
sharp and sudden, and as the valley became more closed
in, the trail hugged the waterway more tenaciously.
Swooping round one bend, we could see a "danger point,"
of which our prospecting friend had warned us. The
slope into the river was almost perpendicular, and the
train cut across a shelf of shale which overhung in a
precarious manner. We could plainly see the constant
slipping action of the brittle mass into the river, which
picked it up in its embrace and bore it seawards, for
the "fault" was just at the point of the bend where
the scouring action of the water was the greatest, eo
that a constant movement of shale was in progress. As
the horse trod on the narrow shelf, the mass was set in
motion, and a false step here would have sent the
unlucky animal to a certain end, as no foothold could
have been gained in the crumbling bank below. Similarly
a jar would have sufficed to set the loose mass above us
in movement.

It was about four o'clock in the afternoon when, as
we rode over a crest through the dense bush which
had shut in our view on either side for some time past,
we emerged into a broad valley. Now mountains of
the wildest grandeur confronted us on all sides. It had
been raining hard, heavy clouds still hung low down,
and the contours of the monarchs shaped in rock stood
out grim and forbidding. In the distant west there was
a blaze of light where the clouds had broken, and the
snow and glaciers were reflecting the summer sunshine
struggling through the leaden canopy. Behind us reared
up a solid V7an, completely shutting in the basin, the

112 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

flanks so steep as to be absolutely vertical, with a ruffle
of thunder-cloud running right across the face, causing
the wet rock to stand out blacker and more sombre
than ever. In the centre of the murky mass was a
straggling, dirty-white blotch, like a snowball thrown
against a tarred fence. The thunder was rolling in
long-drawn-out rising and falling cadences and echoes
thrown from one mountain wall to the other. Such
was our introduction to the wildest and most majestic
of Canada's mountains, whose peak towers higher towards
the sky than any other pinnacle of the Eocky range
in the Dominion — Mount Eobson.

In its shadow we pitched our camp, for we were
bent on an excursion to its western base, since this is
destined to be the Mecca of mountaineers in Canada,
and will become an important tourist centre, few other
districts offering such varied attractions as this. In the
evening the weather cleared, the genial sunshine burst
forth, and we spent the time waiting to see the hoary
giant doff his diaphanous necklace of cloud. But we
waited in vain, for Mount Robson is somewhat shy.
He has not been seen by many people yet, and has not
become accustomed to the glare and stare of admiring
eyes.

The next day we also drew a blank. He Kfted his
ruffle a little higher, as if about to take a peep at us,
but no sign of the magnificent ice-cap he wears was
vouchsafed. Still he bared his head a little more, and
we waited in the hope that by the following day he
would have realised that we were not to be denied in
our curiosity. Further disappointment on the third
day. That mountain was becoming exasperating. But
while we were enjoying our evening smoke before
twilight died away, the peak suddenly abandoned his
fleecy covering, and stood with his profile limned sharply
and clearly against the evening-tinted sky. It was as
if the mountain had awaited the opportunity to present

MOUNT ROBSON 113

himself in his best attire before abandoning his reserve,
for the sun, low down in the heavens, threw its rays
at a long angle, and the mountain top appeared bathed
in fire, with the glacier that formed its crest reflecting
all the colours of the rainbow as the beam of light
struck its innumerable facets, causing it to show like a
gigantic prism, while from the uppermost point of snow
lazily curled a thin wreath of white smoky cloud.

Undoubtedly Mount Kobson offers the finest spectacle
m mountain scenery that Canada possesses — it is the
show-piece of the Dominion. Its western face, bluff
and square, rises up like the front of a huge building
scarred and torn by wind and weather, with gable-like
formations and fantastically carved plinths giving it the
appearance of an ancient Egyptian tomb. Then the
northern side runs up sharply at an angle of about
forty-five degrees, shelving up still more steeply to the
pinnacle, which is 13,700 feet above sea-level. From
all points in the valley, and indeed for miles beyond,
its rugged, grim outline and massive glacier are the
dominating features of the landscape.

The mountain has long been known among the few
frequenting this country. Old traders and trappers, for
the want of a better name, described it as "The Peak,"
using the definite article to emphasise the fact that it
was supreme in point of height. The Indians gave it
a more fantastic appellation, " Yuh-hai-has-kun," because
to them the eroding forces of Nature, which had washed
away the softer rock, gave what was left behind
the semblance of an ascending spiral road. During the
past few years it has excited the attention of the
whole world, but, owing to its inaccessibility, only a
few have had the determination to face the trail leading
to its base, and such hesitation, as we found from
experience, has certainly been justified. Two or three
more adventurous spirits, among them Messrs. L. S.
Amery and Mumm, have equipped expeditions for the

114 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

purpose of scaling its precipitous heights, but so far have
been baffled. Only one man, the Kev. B, M. Kinney,
claims to have reached the summit.

In this connection one of the Grand Trunk Pacific
railway engineers, who was out on survey, related an
amusing anecdote, which I retell for what it is worth,
and without any guarantee as to its truth.

"I was busy at work one night in camp, unravelling
the fruits of my day's labour in the field, when I became
conscious of somebody at the entrance. I looked up
and saw a stranger considerably the worse for wear,
his clothes being knocked about pretty considerably.

'"I hope you will pardon my intrusion, but could
you manage to put me up for the night? '

"I looked at him pretty squarely to size him up.
He was not a prospector, and certainly was not a hobo,
as this genus was not found so far in the wilds.

"'Well, I don't know. Who are you, anyway?'

"'My name's Kinney — the Eeverend Kinney.'

"I was a bit puzzled. This was a most outlandish
place to meet a clergyman.

" ' Well, I don't want to be hard on a fellow-creature.
Where have you come from?'

"'From the top of Mount Robson.'

"I wondered for a moment whether a lunatic had
struck my camp. He had the joke on me, you see.
However, I thought I would humour him.

"'Well, come in and make yourself comfortable.
I hope you will excuse the boys, for they are rough
diamonds out here in the bush, and something like Bob
Acres.'

"He entered and made himself at home. The other
boys, hearing of the coming of the stranger, but some-
what awestruck by the ' frock,' trooped sheepishly along,
and were soon in conversation. He gave us an exciting
story, and certainly entertained us in a way that was
a welcome relaxation from our duties. We listened

THE EAST SIDE OF MOUNT ROBSON.

Showing one of its many glaciers.

MOUNT ROBSON 115

intently, the auditors punctuating his recital now and
again with some monosyllabic vernacular. Still, he
proved a regular decent sort. He took the boys as he
found them, and neither felt nor showed any resent-
ment at their picturesque language. We put him up,
and were mighty sorry when he went on the next day.
Personally that was the toughest experience of my life,
for I was on tenterhooks the whole time that one of the
boys would let fly something which would have shocked
the visitor."

We had an amusing experience ourselves when a
visit was made to the foot of the mountain. There was
no trail, and a path had to be cut and hewn foot by
foot. The horses had to be left behind. First there
was a struggle across muskeg, followed by worming
through a cedar forest, where many of the trees had
been uprooted, their six-foot trunks standing right in
the way and necessitating clambering over as best one
could ; then came a crawl over treacherous, disintegrated
rock brought down by a landslip. In due course, after
some eight hours' work, the edge of a beautiful stretch
of water, first discovered by Mr. Kinney, who named it
Lake Helena, was reached. We hastily fashioned a raft,
by roping three or four logs together, and a cruise was
undertaken over the lake, a pole being used for pro-
pulsion. While moving slowly along, what looked un-
commonly like a signboard was espied on the bank.
Pulling rapidly towards it to ascertain what it was, we
saw, in scrawling print —

SITE OF MACKENZIE'S HOTEL.

The irrepressible Scot again ! That canny son from
the land o' cakes had evidently heard about the
beauties of Mount Eobson, ascertained that the railway
was to skirt its base, and made his way up here to
take a look round. He was quick to grasp the situation ;
foresaw that visitors would desire to approach as closely

ii6 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

as possible to the base of the mountain to investigate
its massive proportions and glaciers from close range;
and human nature told him that, after a toil of eight
miles to reach the spot, at least a glass of milk and a
Bath bun would be in demand ! Hence the hotel. And,
what was more, the shrewd pioneer had carefully staked
out his ground.

August Bank Holiday was spent in gazing upon the
splendours of this mountain from all points of view.
But our several delays had made heavy inroads upon
our provisions ; we were running woefully short. We
had calculated upon sufficient to carry us to Tete Jaune
Cache, where the canoes to take us to Fort George were
to bring further supplies ; but they were not due till
August 6th, and might be late, as time-tables in canoeing
up the Fraser are poor reeds upon which to depend.
However, we were able to secure ample supplies of
Dolly Varden and rainbow trout from the Fraser merely
for the fishing, and hooked some beauties which would
have made an English angler stare, scaling as they did
in the neighbourhood of two pounds or more. The
abundance of fish and the certainty of excellent sport
will serve to render this beauty-spot of more than sight-
seeing interest when it has become easily accessible by
the railway. Huckleberries, a stoneless fruit about the
size of a black-heart cherry, luscious, sweet and palatable,
provided us with delectable dainties in abundance. But
our food supplies diminished with startling rapidity,
and the immediate future was regarded with a certain
alarm.

Then luck came our way. A small party of
prospectors from Tete Jaune Cache were returning
Edmonton wards, and were willing to dispose of their
surplus provisions. They were limited, but we took
all we could get. But at what a price ! Thirty pounds
of flour cost us 33s. — Is. IJd. per pound ; tea 4s. per
pound, and butter 4s. per pound. The flour was the

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MOUNT ROBSON 117

most importaut, and we were glad to get it even at that
famine figure.

Tete Jaune Cache was but a hard day's ride distant,
and we pushed forward rapidly, fording the Grand Fork
just above its junction with the Fraser, then crossing
Swift Current, a most erratic stream fed by melting
snow. Eventually we camped for the night about four
miles this side of the Cache on a little grass-covered
flat which offered good pasturage for the horses. While
we were seated round the fire two strangers pulled in,
eastward bound. One was astride, the other was march-
ing along with his rifle slung over his shoulder. They
shared our meal in true frontier fashion. We inquired
of the "hiker" what he was doing afoot.

"Oh, a fellow offered me ten pounds for my plug,
so I let him go. I'd sooner have the money than the
horse, anyway."

"How far are you walking?"

"Wolf Creek ! I'll do it in about ten days all right."

This hardy old prospector had not even a blanket in
which to wrap himself at night, and he did not seem
to worry about provisions.

"I'll rub along all right till I strike a railway camp,"
he replied to our offers to fit him out a bit. "Besides,
I've got a pard here, and I guess he won't let me
starve."

With that they went off in the darkness.

As we approached Tete Jaune Cache the Fraser bent
round to meet us, giving us a broadside view of a
magnificent waterfall, where the whole width of the
river tumbles over a ledge, about 30 feet in height, to
flow through a rock-girt channel. We struck a fine
stretch of trail through the forest that had evidently
been trodden down by a few thousand feet, judging
from its hard, firm character, and along this we moved
more speedily. But that trail was too good to last. It
debouched from the wood, swung round a little shack

ii8 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

in ruins, and disappeared into the river. We had
reached the end of the overland trail through the
Yellowhead, over which Jasper Hawes's yellow-shocked
Iroquois went his way, and here took to the canoes.
The dismantled ruin was the little store where the
Indian kept his provisions and concealed furs until
sufficient had accumulated to warrant a journey east
or west — in fact, it was his half-way house, and con-
sequently became known as Tete Jaune Cache, from
which the locality takes its name.

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CHAPTEE XI
Where Trail and River Meet

The Hermit of Tete Jaune Cache— His Camp — Mount Thompson — A Great
Watershed — Mineral Wealth — Mica Mountain — " Starvation Flat "
— Our Diminishtag Commissariat — Ernest Keller's Adventures — His
Hopes — His " Neighbours " — Our Canoes Arrive.

Swinging round the remaining crumbled fabric of the

cache of the hunting and trading yellow-headed Iroquois,

we moved away from the river, striking a newer trail that

led along its banks. The range on our right fell back

into a jumble of pinnacles, dropping towards the river

in broad slopes, stepped so as to present wide terraces

or benches paved with a rich, deep top-soil, and having a

southern aspect ; on these terraces vegetables and other

agricultural produce can, and will, be raised in abundance.

We reached a little clearing in the bush which poles

and pegs denoted to be a camping-ground, and which

has been so used by the trappers and frontiersmen for

many a year. Here, reclining under a tree, was a

brawny, husky type of manhood in his prime, reading

a newspaper. We hailed him, and found that he

was awaiting our arrival. He is the hermit of Tete

Jaune Cache, otherwise Ernest Keller, as rough, as

genial, and as dare-devil a backwoodsman as you could

find north of the tropics. But his greeting scarcely

cheered us. He had come up the Eraser Kiver, and

bore the unwelcome intelligence that our boats would

be a week late at the least. To say that our spirits

fell is to describe the situation very mildly, for our

thoughts irresistibly stole to our commissariat and its

rapidly disappearing bulk.

119

120 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

But one could not fall into the "blues " with Keller
about. He has been "up against it" so many times;
he knows so well what it is to catch his breakfast
before eating it that he made light of our situation.

"Gee! you won't starve hereabouts. I can keep the
wolf from the door for a bit, though I have not an
extensive range of luxuries. My larder is severely
restricted to the urgent wants of life. Besides, there's
plenty of fish in the Fraser ! Why, we'll be getting
salmon steaks up here before long ; there's plenty of
blueberries, and there's some game knocking about. I
reckon you're in clover."

We took his word for it, and said no more.

Keller's camp was about a mile distant, and we'
followed on his heels. He led us into a broad valley
to give us a view that was worth going on short
rations to see. Following the river bank we wound
over hillocks of rich loam, finally climbing up a high,
steep knoll or cut-bank, the Fraser's handiwork. From
its crest, looking southwards, a wide depression lay
before us. Right straight ahead, about twenty miles
distant, rose a massive hump to a height of some 7,000
feet, bathed in an ethereal blue haze, which gave it a
spectre-like aspect. This was Mount Thompson.
Its summit was sparsely sprinkled with snow, and
Keller assured us that on the top was some of the finest
pasturage to be found for miles around.

On the east of this old head was a broad valley
which, from our coign of vantage, looked like a long
passage, so straight was the serried mountain wall on
either side, stretching for mile after mile, until the
two straight lines, in obedience to the laws of per-
spective, seemed to meet on our horizon. This broad
valley extends right down to the Columbia River, &
matter of some 150 miles or so distant. The range
which had been hugging us on the south side of the
Fraser broke off abruptly, joining the spur which came

WHERE TRAIL AND RIVER MEET 121

up from the south ; the dale between was the dividing
line between the Eockies and the Selkirks. In the
bottom of the valley thus fonned runs the Canoe River,
which feeds the mighty "Columbee," and the descent is
so gentle that the "height of land " is only some 21 feet
above the level of the Fraser at Tete Jaune Cache, and
was plainly visible from our elevation. On the opposite
side Mount Thompson rounds off into a mingle of snow-
capped peaks and glaciers, through which we could just
descry a gloomy, cavernous passage, the Albreda Pass —
the only place where the range can be penetrated from
this valley — this range continuing sharply round towards
the Fraser, which it joins again just below Tete Jaune
Cache.

The valley, of which we secured a bird's-eye view,
was remarkable. It was almost level, and was cut up
in all directions by waterways and creeks. Most con-
spicuous in the foreground was the Fraser, with its
extraordinary twists and turns ; then behind we could
see the McGlennan, which empties into the Fraser.
We could see also the area in which the Canoe Eiver
takes its rise, and the country forming the headwaters
of the famous North Thompson, while the creeks and
streams feeding the different main rivers were too
numerous to mention. We were, in fact, scanning one
of the most remarkable watersheds in British Columbia,
a dent in the mountain range on which the enterprising
have already made their footprints.

This valley is certain of a great future. It will be
one of the busiest and most important railway centres
in the interior of the province. Survey has settled
the location of two or three railways, the most important
of which is the Grand Trunk Pacific, and rumour has
elaborated the routes for half a dozen other lines coming
up from the south. Private enterprise has projected the
acquisition of eight square miles for town sites.

Certainly there is plenty of scope for development

122 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

in a score of ways. The mountains teem with minerals
of all descriptions, Keller showing us specimens of
galena, gold, silver and other valuable metals, claims
for which he had staked out. Mica Mountain is a great
storehouse of mica, and some of the mineral obtained
from it is quite noteworthy. It is white, and of
good cleavage, and sheets from 32 inches square upwards
can be readily obtained. If such veins are extensive,
the mica mining prospect here is brilliant indeed. About
twenty claims have already been staked, and the large
block of this mineral which carried off a distinguished
award at the last Paris Exhibition was mined on this
mountain. When the neighbourhood becomes more acces-
sible, prospectors will pour into the country, and carry out
their task upon a broad, scientific basis, whereas up to the
present only the surface here and there has been
scratched. The wealth in the mountains hereabouts
is beyond human conception, and, after the experience
of Cobalt, he would be a rash man indeed, no matter
what his geological and other qualifications might be,
whb would dare to say what could not be found.

Apart from the mining industry, the valley will
attract large numbers of agriculturists, for the soil is
rich and light. Market gardening will here find great
opportunities when the towns are born. The work will
be hard, but the returns will be sure, as the teeming
communities must be fed, and the cost of transport must
result in the immediately contiguous sources of supply
being patronised. There is only one bleak spot. That
is "Starvation Flat," which sinister sobriquet is well
deserved, for it is terribly exposed to the east and
north. Yet possibly it will be rescued from obloquy
after all the surrounding arable area has been taken up.
Or it may blossom into a hustling town !

We pitched camp under some tall pines, on the
bank of the Fraser, now grown to a formidable water-
way some 400 feet in width, and svsdnging merrily

WHERE TRAIL AND RIVER MEET 123

along at from six to eight miles an hour. We passed
the time as best we could in exploring the neighbourhood,
examining Keller's efforts to grow vegetables — which, by
the way, did not call for much skill or attention, owing
to the congeniality of the soil and climate — and sampling
with great relish the lettuces, onions, potatoes, cabbages
and so forth. The Fraser yielded some excellent sport
and magnificent prizes, though as we were in urgent
need of fresh meat for our table, we did not follow the
true sporting instinct, but, pushed somewhat by emer-
gencies, yanked them out as best we could with a bait
of bacon or fresh squirrel and chip-munk, the latter
brought down with a Browning automatic pistol. Other
time we passed in making the camp comfortable, dis-
playing our cabinet-making proclivities by fashioning
and erecting seats, tables, etc., with our solitary tool —
the axe.

But our commissariat was of vital concern. Some
of the most urgent necessaries had shrunk to very
slender proportions indeed. What might be termed the
essential articles of the bush, such as flour, bacon, sugar
and tea, had well-nigh disappeared. We sought Keller,
and he sold us what he could spare. But we had to
pay dearly for our succour, though, bearing in mind our
predicament and situation, we were lucky to get off as
cheaply as we did.

Keller was a host in himself. At evening, sitting
round a log camp-fire, which threw ghostly shadows
among the trees, he regaled us with stories and adven-
tures innumerable which had befallen him through a
wildly adventurous life — some grave, others gay, but one
and all first-rate time-killers. Like so many others
buried in the wilderness, he hailed from the United
States, having been raised somewhere down on the
Pacific coast. The quest for gold enthused him' early
in life, and he had searched patiently for the yellow
metal from sunny California to ice-bound Alaska. He

124 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

was in far-off Nome when he first heard about the
upper reaches of the Fraser River,

"I had knocked about Alaska and Prince of Wales
Island without striking much luck, so when I once
more found myself in Vancouver I started off for Fort
George. I heard that there was some good mineral
country up round Tete Jaune Cache. I got hold of a
canoe, came up, and cruised around to see how the
land lay. That was five years ago, and I am still here.
Yes, I am in solitary state. Another frontier lad,
Wilson, and a pard, have a piece of land about fifty
miles down the Fraser, and give me a call now and
again. They're on the opposite side of the river at the
moment. How do I like the life? Why, it's the only
life to lead, if one doesn't mind being lonely. Some-
times I am here for three months and don't see a soul,
not even an Indian. If it hits me a bit too hard I go
off on a hunting trip after cariboo, goat, sheep, or
what not, I have been all over these mountains. Or
else I go prospecting and exploring. Illness? You can
never fall ill in this open, free air."

It certainly looked like it, Keller had a magnificent
physique, was as hard as iron, and the picture of health.
He did not know what a malady was ; even a cold was
foreign to him, though he walked about merely in a
thin under- vest and a pair of nether garments, with
sockless feet shod in a heavy pair of boots. His
wardrobe was certainly no cause for anxiety. Twenty-
five shillings would have given him a complete rig-out
from top to toe with all he wanted, and the season of
the year made little difference.

"I am often away from here for weeks at a time,
I just take my blanket, some small supplies, and my
rifle, and off I go. Time has no worry for me. I don't
know what is the day of the week, the date of the
month, or the time, as I have neither watch nor
calendar, and I certainly do not bother my head over

WHERE TRAIL AND RIVER MEET 125

either. I just work when I feel like it, and rest when
I feel so disposed."

In such circumstances it seems difficult to under-
stand how these frontier men exist. But a little prying
suffices to show. They trade with the Indians, and
the furs thus obtained find a ready, lucrative sale at
Fort George, and with the proceeds fresh supplies of
provisions, sufficient for months, are obtained. But
Keller has faint dreams, or castles in the clouds, of
becoming a Croesus — some day. He hopes to dispose
of his mineral finds when the railway comes along and
permits machinery to be brought in. Then his holdings
will no doubt be taken over, and he will hie to pastures
new.

"I might settle down at Tete Jaune Cache, though,"
he remarked. "I have got to like the country here-
abouts."

He was squatting on a few hundred acres of
first-class agricultural land. This will be worth some
hundreds of pounds and will be readily saleable when
the territory develops after the coming of the iron horse.
He had furthermore built himself a canoe, in which he
cruised about the various waterways in the neigh-
bourhood, and made periodical visits to Fort George.
However one might be inclined to sympathise with
Keller, he would not change his devil-may-care lot
with any city dweller. His adventures are without
end. He has been robbed by desperadoes ; been
upset in treacherous rivers ; had tight squeezes in
pursuit of big game — and he merely laughs heartily
over it all.

One night we heard a hail, and Wilson and his
"pard" strode into the camp. Wilson was just as rough
a diamond as Kellar ; of the same free and don't-care-a-
damn spirit. He had got hold of some tobacco, and
that came as a pleasant relief, as he had been making
shift with ki-ni-ki-nick for some weeks past. This is

126 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

a smoking mixture made from the dried-up bark of
willow and roots, and as a substitute for the genuine
weed is passable. His clothes were so patched that
the original material was scarcely visible, though, like
Keller, he made a pair of trousers and vest suffice for
his needs, while his toes thrust themselves through his
boots. He wanted a match or two, and these being
furnished, he endeavoured to strike one on his nether
garments.

"Guess I'll have to be careful," he remarked at the
fourth attempt. "I must find a piece of my trousers
where there ain't a patch, or I'll break the head off."
But he gave it up and lit his pipe with a glowing
ember. Matches are a luxury in the wilderness, rank-
ing next to tobacco.

On Sunday morning, about noon, a yell came sound-
ing across the river, "Got any mail to go down? " Two
prospectors in a small Peterborough were returning to
Fort George, and were willing, in true frontier fashion,
to take any letters we might have. Inquiring as to the
time they were starting, and securing an hour's respite,
soon we were all busily engaged in letter-writing at top
speed. At one o'clock they drew in. No one possessed
any stamps, but the newcomers were not perturbed.
"Give us the letters and don't worry. We'll see them
mailed all right." Such is one of the little courtesies
of the bush, and those letters were as safe in these
couriers' hands, although they had to bear the expense
of franking, as if they were paid to carry His Majesty's
Mails. We felt a bit depressed as we saw them
go swinging down stream singing lustily ; but they
had promised if they passed our canoes to give the
men in charge a "wakkener oop," as the passengers
were waiting at Tete Jaune Cache in a starving
condition !

In the twilight a week later we heard a loud Indian
wail echoing up the river. It was a peculiar call — a

WHERE TRAIL AND RIVER MEET 127

typical high-pitched cry which the Indian uses when
hallo-ing. Some minutes later a gaunt figure broke
through the bush and inquired for the party going
down to Fort George. It was George Williams, who was
to take us there. We turned in early that night so as to
be in tip-top fettle for the first hard, long day on the
roaring waterway.

CHAPTEE XII
Down the Upper Fraser in a Dug-out

Indian Dug-outs — A Timber -jam — Our Indian Crew — George Williams and
His Record— Farming in the Wilds— The Good Time Coming for
Pioneers — Pitching Camp at Little Smoky River — Lashing the Canoes
together — The Rau Shuswap River — A Cry of " Bar ! " — The Indian
Notion of Sport — Pursued by Bald-headed Eagles — Strenuous Work
— Camping at Night — Mosquitoes — Shooting the Goat Rapids.

Shortly after daylight the next morning Joe the cook
was astir preparing our matutinal meal of "mush" — no
Canadian would ever start on a day's work without his
feast of porridge — pork and beans. We were doomed
to short rations, or rather limited fare, until we
reached Fort George, for our canoes had come up
without provisions, owing to a misunderstanding; but
on reflection we concluded that we could just about
scramble through another week with what we had.

The canoes were typical Indian dug-outs ; merely the
hollowed three-quarter section carcases of cottonwood
tree-trunks, about thirty feet long, with pointed ends.
They are crazy-looking craft in all conscience, and about
the most uncomfortable vessels that man ever designed,
though comfort to the Indian mind is the last and least
consideration. In the hands of the red men they are
wonderfully handy. The European, however, on first
acquaintance regards them somewhat with dismay, since
they roll like a log, and the slightest shifting of the
balance is sufficient to bring about a capsize. They
have no gunwale, and as the Indian knows nothing
about PlimsoU marks he simply emulates the American
tram conductor's example and keeps loading them up
until only about two inches of hull are above the water.

DOWN THE UPPER ERASER 129

Consequently, if you should move and tilt the boat, for
it is keel-less and rolls at the slightest motion, a swamp-
ing is very probable.

When we embarked, the freeboard was about an
inch and a half, as the boats were hard pushed to take
on half a ton of impedimenta and ten passengers between
them. We had to sit as best we could amid the baggage,
which had been stowed to give the best trim, with our
legs doubled up and cramped. A week afloat like this
was not a very rosy outlook.

At ten o'clock there was a guttural exclamation from
the Indians, followed by a smart push, and we were
adrift the roaring Fraser. A few deft strokes drove
the dug-out from the lee of the bank into mid-stream,
where we were caught up like straws by the fierce
current, swung round prow forwards, and hurried along
at about six or eight miles an hour. The getting under
way was accomplished so quickly and dexterously that
we had not shaken down to our confined quarters, causing
the boat to roll ominously. Lett, who can manage a
dug-out as well as any Indian, tried to steady the
violent rocking, and, looking forward, spotted me
smoking,

"Got a cigarette on? "

"Yes." I had lighted on an unknown packet of
"coffin-nails," and was enjoying a puff.

"Then for heaven's sake don't shift it to the other
side of your mouth, or else you'll have us over!"

Keller sped us on our way, and the last we saw of
this husky, hospitable son of the wilderness was a
brawny arm waving through the bushes as we shot
round a bend.

It took us some little tim'e and effort to get as
comfortable as the cramped accommodation would per-
mit, and every movement gave the dug-out a wicked
lurch. We had looked forward to a leisurely, easy ride
down the river, and here we were huddled worse than
J

130 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

cattle in a railway truck ! There was not a single one
who would not rather have been wrestling with the
rock- and tree-strewn trail than courting disaster in
such a craft as this.

The mountains on either side once more swung
sharply towards the river, hemming us in on either side,
the lowland being covered with scrub as dense as a
jungle, while the trees stretched in an unbroken mass
to the timber Hne about 6,000 feet above us. We had
been clipping along pretty smartly for about an hour
when we heard an awful roaring and snarling ahead.
Eight in front was a huge timber jam, where the
hundreds of trees torn up by the Fraser in flood, caught
in its awful embrace, and hurried down stream, had
been piled up in an inextricable mass about fifty feet
in height. It stretched halfway across the river, and
the flotsam and jetsam formed a dam that constricted the
waterway considerably, and converted the narrow channel
into a millrace. We had to steer between two of these
vicious-looking obstructions, and the water curled round
the ends with a greedy sucking. The tendency of the
current is to draw the canoe towards the eddy, where,
caught by the undertow, it is pulled right down.

The Indians were on the alert. They felt the dug-out
strike the undertow, and with their wonderful alacrity
they bent to the stiff paddles and literally pulled the
boat away from the current. The force put into the
strokes was enough to break the paddles, and if one
had given way as we shot rolling and rocking through
that narrow rapid, the timber-jam would have received
another little contribution, and the Fraser a few more
victims.

The Fort George Siwash Indians — and we had four
aboard, Denis, William, Louis and A-mo — are fine
waterdogs, expert with the canoe, and can send the
boat spinning along at a merry speed — when they feel
inclined. With a current beneath them running eight

DOWN THE UPPER ERASER 131

miJes an hour, they see no need to row ; they just give
a spurt now and again to get steering way, and that
is practically all. Denis, a young fellow of about
twenty, was a powerful oarsman, and when he bent
to the task he put such force into his strokes as to
lift the fore-end of the boat right out of the water.
But he was very rarely moved to such exertion, except
when we were in a bad place. His usual practice was
to row ten strokes, and then doze for as many minutes.
He was the most slothful member of the crew, though
the most powerful oarsman. True, they had been hard
put to it coming up the river, for George Williams
had driven them like a torpedo destroyer on her speed
trials, and ascending the Upper Fraser is enough to
take it out of any man, since the canoe has to be
poled-up, like a punt, for nearly 300 miles, it being
impossible to paddle a heavy dug-out against such a
swift current.

The average time occupied in the up journey from
Fort George to Tete Jaune Cache is eighteen to
twenty-one days, Williams in coming to meet us had
established a record, for he had covered the distance in
sixteen days, making the Siwashes under him do over
thirty miles in the last day, and keeping them at it
consistently during the trip from 5.30 in the morning
till 6.30 at night. They knew this, and were bent on
revenge on the downward run. For this work they are
paid 15s. a day all found. On the up journey they
earn it; but going downstream, unless pushed, they
have a holiday. Williams holds the record for doing
this stretch of the Fraser both up and down, and is
about the biggest hustler we met in New British
Columbia. He was at Aldermere, 260 miles north of
Fort George, when he received the summons to come
and fetch our party from Tete Jaune Cache. With two
horses, and travelling as lightly as possible, he covered
the 260 miles of trail in five days — rapid travelling that

132 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

— and, without a pause at Fort George, jumped into the
canoes and set off up-stream. A few months before
our arrival, the divisional engineer of the Grand Trunk
Pacific had to be taken down the river over the same
route, and was pushed for time, Williams was urged
to let himself go. He did ; and drove the Indians with
him like mad, covering the 315 miles in four days,
resting only about four hours at night. On the last lap
they pitched camp at midnight, and started off again
an hour and a half later. His feat was noised far and
wide through the country, as well as the fact that on
reaching Fort George he tumbled into bed at the
Hudson's Bay Post and slept for thirty-six hours on
end.

At noon the Indians pulled into the bank, and the
midday meal was hurried forward. The red men have
no trades union, but are just as strict in their methods
and as regular in their hours. Unless cajoled they will
not work after six in the evening, and meals must be
taken punctually, come what may. If you do not like
it you must do the other thing — go off by yourself.
They are quite ready to face a 200-mile tramp through
the bush, or capable of fashioning a raft which would
carry them down stream, and they can subsist where
a white man would starve, and thread their way
through dense virgin bush where a white man would
get lost.

About thirty miles below Tete Jaune Cache, Louis
gave vent to an hallo. The Indian hail is pitched in
a high tone so as to travel well and far, and resembles
a long-drawn-out " Wah-oo-wah-ooo-wah." Certainly
the peculiar cry can be heard at a great distance. In
a second or two came back a faint answer like an echo.
We drew towards the bank, there was a rustling in the
bush, and presently a head was thrust through the
bushes :

"Any mail?"

DOWN THE UPPER ERASER 133

"No thanks. Everything all right. You're pretty
low down " — referring to the depth of the dug-outs in
the water.

"Oh, we're all right. The canoes are riding steady,"
returned Williams. "So long!" Another push and we
were in mid-stream.

What this man could be doing so far from civilisation
and in such an out-of-the-way spot as this, it seemed
doubtful if even Heaven knew. He was farming ! Least-
ways, he had cleared a patch in the forest, discovered
some first-class soil, and was getting ready for his first
crop. However, he was but one of three hardy old
backwoodsmen who had launched out in this country.
Wilson, who visited us at the Tete Jaune Cache, had
wild hay topping five feet not far distant. Two others
farther down the river were dwelling likewise in solitary
state, with visitors few and far between, the river the
only highway between the various points of civilisation,
as there is no trail through these tangled primeval
forests, and the dug-out is the sole means of travel.

And clearing is an appalling task, demanding cease-
less effort and a pluck that cannot be fathomed. We
made more than one effort to penetrate the bush, but
were always driven back by the tangled vegetation, the
branches of which intertwine, forming a stockade which
can be broken down only by the axe. The trees grow-
to lofty heights, and as thickly as weeds. Once or
twice, for our midday repast, we had to cleave a narrow
pathway to the top of the river bank and make a small
clearing sufficient to light our fire. But the forest is
like a gigantic cavern. No daylight ever reaches the
soil, which is as cold as ice, spongy from the accumu-
lated vegetation of centuries, which has become heavily
logged with water. The whole of the valley may almost
be described as muskeg — such is the most fitting descrip-
tion. The timber for the most part is suited to pulping,
and the larger trees for lumber. Some of these giants

134 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

are of tremendous size, and the lumberjack when he
enters will be amidst a wealth of wood.

Owing to the valley being sheltered on all sides,
there is no doubt but that the next ten years, will
witness a tremendous expansion, and that what is now
primeval forest will be cleared and converted into an
immense garden. The lumberjack will come first — the
timber cruiser spying out new resources for lumber is
already active — then, as the land is cleared, the farmer
will come in and turn the rich, dark topsoil to valuable
account in the raising of produce. The land shelves
very gently to the foot of the range on either side, and,
generally speaking, the lower mountain-slopes are not
steep, and should be available for cultivation to a very
appreciable extent. The land will have to be drained,
but that will not be a task presenting much difficulty,
inasmuch as the plateau for the most part is a few feet
above the level of the Fraser, and directly cultivation
is practised on an extensive scale the river will shrink
still lower, in common with those on the prairie, owing
to the roots sucking up a large proportion of the moisture
which at present simply helps to swell the Fraser.

The land at the moment is absolutely valueless
except to the lumberjack. His axes and sawmills are
required to level the forest growth. Fire will soon clear
the dense scrub, and as the roots of the trees do
not run downwards, but spread out along the surface,
the removal of stumps is a comparatively easy matter.
Farming is impossible at the moment, even should the
forests be cleared, since there are no facilities for bring-
ing in the machinery, but directly the railway comes
through, the valley will spring into bustle and activity.

These pioneers realise that they have to wait. So
long as they can just struggle along — and their wants
are few — they are satisfied. This land, which to-day
can be purchased for a dollar an acre, in five years'
time will be commanding anything from £S per acre

DOWN THE UPPER ERASER i35

upwards. These intrepid adventurers in the wilderness
fully realise that fact, and though comparatively poor
to-day in point of cash, their real estate holdings,
whether only a few hundred acres or a couple of square
miles, render them comparatively wealthy ; at any rate
they will be able to command a position of comfort-
able independence in the near future. These are the
men the country wants — men who acquire land and
develop it ; not mere land-grabbers who stake and claim
everything, and then put it up for sale or stack it on
the shelves until they can get the exorbitant price
they demand.

The brightness of this morrow is already dawning.
The engineers had completed their work of plotting the
pathway for the iron road, and their bench-marks were
plainly visible at regular intervals. The axemen are
rapidly approaching Tete Jaune Cache, and will soon
cross the river, cutting and burning the vegetation over
a swathe 100 feet wide, as they go up hill and down
dale. Directly these outposts appear the country will
awaken from its long sleep. In their wake will come
the construction camps and the end-of -steel town,
with pioneers pushing ahead and to each side in all
directions. Then, the moment the first forward move-
ment of the huge army of navvies takes place — this
will be any day now — with the steam shovel, grading
machines, troops of horses and other impedimenta of the
engineer's heavy artillery, the investment of the Fraser
valley will commence in grim earnest. Those in quest
of land overrun the country on all sides, settle, and
lose no time setting to work, for immediately behind
the railway army comes the town-builder planting down
his streets here, there and everywhere, bringing with
him an enterprising community with all sorts and con-
ditions of ambassadors of trade and industry. The silent
Fraser forests, which to-day are undisturbed save by
the screech of an eagle or the twitter of a little

136 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

colony of small red-breasted birds, will give way to the
hundred-and-one handmaids of civilisation ; the silence
will be broken by the throb of the locomotive piston-
rod, the whir of the circular saw, the nerve-racking
clang-clang of the electric tramcar, and the whizzing
bur-r-r of the telephone bell, for it must be remembered
that as much history and development are compressed
within a decade of Canada as in a century of the old
world. Copious clouds of smoke and fumes will streak
towards the sky, as the inexhaustible mineral wealth
of the mountains is torn out and smelted for all the
varied demands of the world. The ranges have only
been scoured perfunctorily by the prospector as yet, but
those who have had the hardihood to penetrate this
silent world have been rewarded sufficiently for their
endeavours to sit down a while and harbour their secrets
until transportation provides the way and renders the
moment opportune for launching their discoveries upon
the market.

The Fraser Eiver Valley possesses every sign of be-
coming a little empire in itself, throbbing with the life
of an industrious hustling community — such men as have
built up the cities on the prairie, and are to-day open-
ing up New Ontario. At the Little Smoky Eiver we
pitched camp. We espied the fire warden coming down
in his crazy dug-out, assisted by his wife and child.
They are nomads in the strictest sense of the word,
carrying their home in the bottom of the hollowed-out
tree trunk, pitching their pillow here to-night and there
to-morrow. They have no permanent address, and if
you wish to find this official — well, you must be prepared
for a hunt compared to which the search for a needle
in the proverbial bundle of hay is the merest child's
play.

"Anything doing out here?" he repeated, as he sat
with us round the camp fire. "Why, I should smile.
This valley is in for a big hum, and no mistake. I've

DOWN THE UPPER ERASER 137

already been over 600 timber limits — licenses for ex-
ploiting the timber wealth — this year, and have enough
to keep me going for several weeks yet."

One hundred miles out of Fort George we came
across a survey encampment. They were hard at work,
toiling from dawn to twilight plotting out the ground to
meet the impending agricultural assault.

"Invasion of settlers!" one of the camp remarked.
"Gee! It'll be no mere invasion when the run up here
sets in. It'll be a wholesale investment!" Such, as
it appears to those engaged in preliminary operations,
is the future of the Fraser valley and the wide open
dales which run laterally into it, bearing a host of
tributaries to the famous waterway.

After our first day out the Indians decided upon a
new plan of campaign. So far the canoes had been
travelling singly, but the dangers due to rolling and low
freeboard had come home to them. Steadier travelling,
greater safety, and enhanced comfort could be secured
by coupling the two together. This was done, the two
boats being placed side by side, spaced two feet apart,
and rigidly coupled together by cross poles firmly lashed
to the hulls to form a kind of raft. Our craft was more
cumbersome, slower in travel, but the conjunction a la
catamaran gave us more space and freedom, with com-
plete immunity from the prospect of a sudden immersion
in the scurrying waters.

As we neared the mouth of the Eau Shuswap River,
which flows through a tangled, mountainous mass rich
in mica, gold and other metals, we pulled ashore to
retrim the boat so as to ease the oarsmanship. We had
plumped into the bank, and were looking up the rushing
tributary upon which the sunhght was dancing bril-
liantly, when the Indians; cried "Bar," and Dennis,
excitedly grabbing his Remington 22, let drive two shots.
At first glance we could see no sign of any animal, but
in a few seconds snatched a glimpse of a small black

t38 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

speck in the middle of the Shuswap barely an inch
square, looking like the end of a branch fluttering on the
water. It was making steadily for the opposite bank,
and then it came home to us that this was Bruin's nose,
just projecting above the water as he was swimming
from bank to bank. Three other rifles cracked out
loudly, and the water within two inches of the dark
speck flew up in spray. At that range, with the sun in
our eyes, Bruin's rapidly moving nose was a difficult
target, yet that animal must have felt relieved when he
gained the opposite side and was lost to sight in the
dense undergrowth, for the rain of lead that screamed
around his nasal organ during his swim must have been
disconcerting.

We were now in the midst of the game country,
for the Upper Fraser Valley swarms with the black
bear. We were recompensed soon for our initial dis-
appointment. That afternoon we were swinging round
a big bend through a low-lying plateau, where the river
was about 200 yards wide. We had eased up a bit
when Williams, looking round, suddenly started up to
grab his rifle. Dennis did likewise. There was some-
thing doing.

"Kot a sound," growled Williams, looking towards
the opposite bank, where we could just see outlined
against a blackened tree trunk the form of a black bear
standing on his hind legs, with one front paw enclosing
a bush, while the other was busily forcing lusciousi
berries into his capacious mouth.

Dennis let fly first with his "22" and missed, the
bear simply turning his head and dropping on his feet
at the report. Immediately two other rifles cracked out
in concert at the range of about a hundred yards, and
the bear crashed down the bank towards the water.
The shot, or shots, had hit him in a vulnerable spot —
probably the spine — judging from the frantic way in
which he was clawing the bank. The Indians went

D .S

a i

a

-J .^
< "^

I—
c

UJ 'Z

DOWN THE UPPER ERASER 139

mad with excitement, for they cherish an utter detesta-
tion of the bear.

"Ko shoo' any mor'. No kill. We play wit' bar,"
they jerked out as they pulled viciously across stream
to the further accompaniment of weird gutturals and
exclamatory shrieks in unintelligible Cree. We came
into the bank with a jolt, and the four Siwashes, in-
toxicated with excitement, grabbed poles and commenced
jabbing at the wounded animal to prevent him from
landing, and giving him sundry knocks on the head.
This is the Indian's characteristic idea of sport, and
recalled the pen-pictures vividly painted by Fenimore
Cooper and others of the delight of the Indians in agony
and torture. Williams, when he had regained his feet,
snatched his rifle, and, pushing the Indians roughly aside,
yelled savagely: "Stop it; out of the way," at the same
moment lifting his rifle to give the struggling brute his
quietus.

"No shoo' ! No shoo' ! We play," cried the Indians.

" Play be hanged ! We're not going to stop here
all night to amuse you. Beat ! "

But there was no need for further discussion. The
corpse of the bear was floating down stream. The task
was now to gain its body before it sank. The canoe
was pushed off hurriedly, and as the animal swept by,
Dennis grabbed it by the ear and, clinging tightly, towed
it to a flat on the opposite side of the river, where it
was quickly and deftly skinned, the Indians at the same
time hacking off the hams for food.

It proved to be a male of about three years, was of
good size, but as a trophy of little value, because the
coat was poor and thin, being the summer pelt.
Accordingly further bear shooting was straightway
vetoed, since we did not want to kill for killing's sake.
This decision was resented by Dennis, who, in true
Siwash style, desired to blaze away at anything that was
moving, whether of value or otherwise.

140 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

In camp that night bear steaks were the piece de
resistance of the menu. The bullet which had brought
that brute down had done its work well, as the spine
— the best point in which to hit this animal — was com-
pletely broken in two and an ugly jagged wound was
caused by the bullet. Whether the Remington 22 of
George Williams or the Savage automatic rifle of Lett
had brought the quarry down could not be told, but the
amusing part of the whole incident was that Dennis,
in true Indian fashion, laid claim to the prize, notwith-
standing that he had only pumped one shot at it, and
that had missed, as the bear looked round after his crack
to see what was the matter.

The next day we had another spice of excitement.
Two legs of bear were lying in the prow, and we were
pulling along gaily in the misty morning, when we heard
a furious screech over our heads. Looking up, there was
a large bald-headed eagle poised about two hundred feet
above, and evidently attracted by the sight of the fresh
meat. He swooped down a bit, looking a trifle aggres-
sive, and Lett whipped out his Browning automatic
and let drive seven shots in rapid succession. Though
he missed, owing to the difficult angle at which he was
shooting, he evidently made things too warm for the
bird, for we saw its wings buckle under after each shot,
showing that the missile sped by it pretty closely. It
took the hint and got to a higher level, giving vent to
fiercer screeches than ever, which were reinforced from
directly ahead. Looking forward w^e saw, perched on
the topmost twig of a dead tree, another big bird. A
bark from the "22 " started him off screeching madly, and
as we came round a big cottonwood tree we spotted a
bald-headed eagle's clumsy nest, perched like a crown
on the top of a dead jack pine about fifty feet from the
bank, and about the same distance above the ground,
with the mother in possession. Another blaze, and she
started off with a shriek. The din was terrific, for their

DOWN THE UPPER ERASER 141

infuriated screeches made the welkin ring. The three
birds hung about us, wheeUng and circhng right over-
head, and occasionally swooping down to within a hun-
dred feet or so. They were bent on that meat, evidently.
Two Kemingtons and the Browning automatic com-
menced talking once more, and those birds had such
an uncomfortable sixty or ninety seconds under the
fusillade that was rained upon them that they beat
a discreet retreat. Had we bagged those three birds
we should have been richer by forty-five shillings,
as there is a bounty on the head of the bald-headed
eagle.

Canoeing down the Fraser was strenuous work, and
the day long. The cook tore us rudely from our sleep
about 5.30 a.m., and although it was the early days of
August the mornings were chilly, the ground vegetation
being white with hoar frost, and the air misty and raw.
We huddled round the camp-fire as breakfast was dis-
cussed, about 5.45, and then there was a hurried rush
to strike camp, which stimulated blood circulation some-
what, for we invariably pushed off as the watch scored
seven o'clock. The river was wrapped in a cold mist,
which penetrated to the very marrow of the bones ; but
as exercise outside of rowing or paddling was impossible,
one had to sit and freeze until the welcome warm rays of
the sun burst through the shroud over the water. About
half-past eleven a sharp look out was kept for a suitable
site on which to kindle a fire and dispose of a hurried
lunch — generally pork and beans, with bannock, bacon,
butter, jam and tea. The respite from the water was
always very brief — never more than an hour — and when
we were once more adrift, a combined sun-bath and
siesta was snatched if the conditions were favourable.
When it rained — and the rainfall in the Fraser valley is
fierce at times, the climatic conditions being closely
analogous to those obtaining in England — we sat huddled
and wet, as miserable specimens of humanity as you

142 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

could imagine, vainly endeavouring to restore some signs
of warmth to our nipped extremities. About 6 o'clock
in the evening the canoes were run ashore for the day,
a blazing log fire was kindled , and while supper was being
prepared the ground was cleared for the pitching of the
tents.

Owing to the dense vegetation overhead — for the trees
seemed to have raced upwards to get the warmth of
the sun — the ground was as cold as an ice-well. In-
deed, one had not to dig very deeply to come across
traces of frost, and this state of affairs will continue
until the land is cleared and the soil broken to let in the
rays of the sun. Sleeping on such a couch, no matter
how much ingenuity one might expend in concocting a
mattress of spruce boughs, was not exactly like reposing
beneath fleecy blankets and soft sheets on a spring mat-
tress, for the heat radiating from the body tended to suck
up the latent moisture and cold. Supper invariably put
new life into us, and we sat around the fire with the
gaunt tree-trunks walling us in like a prison, fighting
the mosquitoes which, with the coming of eventide,
rose up in clouds from concealed positions and swarmed
to the attack. And they were not ordinary mosquitoes
either, but exceptionally pugnacious specimens of their
tribe, which could not be beaten off readily, and which,
when you offered opposition, reared up on their back legs
and fought like furies. We kindled "smudges" — small
fires of damp leaves which emitted copious clouds of
smoke — and suffered semi-suffocation, preferring a quasi-
curing process, with our faces bathed in the nauseating
fumes, to overwhelming onrushes of the ubiquitous
enemy. One suffered smoke-drying until the lungs re-
belled against the inhalation of the asphyxiating atmo-
sphere by provoking a fit of violent choking and coughing.
Then there was a rush to an open spiot to cleanse
them with pure air, pursued by hordes of the foe,
who swept to the attack with redoubled efforts, biting

DOWN THE UPPER ERASER 143

and stinging harder than ever in a kind of mad glee.
Relief was only secured by return to the smoke.

In the miserable darkness we turned into our blankets,
first making sure that the nets which enshrouded our
heads like a meat-safe did not harbour any of our winged
enemies who had forced their way surreptitiously into
the inner space and were lying low awaiting their
opportunity to resume hostilities when we were asleep.
Crawling into a mosquito net in the dark demands no
little skill, and one of the party, Eussell, always per-
formed unrehearsed acrobatic feats when crawling to his
couch, which ended in his complete entanglement in the
muslin.

A little after noon on the third day out from Tete
Jaune Cache we slipped by the mouth of Goat Eiver, and
were then brought face to face with our first peril on
the waterway — the Goat Eapids. A deserted prospector's
shack caught the Indians' eyes, and they pulled rapidly
ashore. We seized the opportunity to give our cramped
limbs a stretch while the canoes were being overhauled
and the transverse joints stiffened by logs of cedar wood
torn from the roof of the neglected house. Some am-
bitious and hardy old pioneer years before had the
intrepidity to force his way painfully up to this point,
magnetised by the yellow metal. A creek rattles into
the Fraser here, and the stones giving indications
of gold, he made this his home. He left a calendar
behind him, on which he had endeavoured evidently
to keep track of the days, but had apparently got into
a hopeless tangle, and at last gave up the attempts in
disgust.

Once more aboard, we drifted stealthily towards the
head of the rapids. The fall in the river here is con-
siderable, and one can see the water racing downhill,
frothing and foaming furiously, with short, choppy
waves licking one another, and emitting a peculiar
smacking sound like a hound cleaning its teeth after a

144 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

juicy meal. Ugly rocks projected above the surface, like
fangs ready to snap at any floating thing that came
within their reach. The river was like a bath half filled
with water, which two people pick up and attempt to
carry, the result being that the w^ater curls and spatters
in all directions. The declivity in the channel tended to
pull the water downhill, the rocks sent it in another
direction, the current in yet a third, and the undertow in
a fourth, with the inevitable result — hopeless confusion.
Rapids demand skilful navigation, and sturdy oarsmen
who are not likely to give out through exertion, and who
always possess a reserve of strength to pull the craft
out of a tight corner. One does not strike a bee-line
down stream, but saws from one side to the other, pick-
ing out the channel, for the waters are shallow. If the
dug-out goes amiss and hits a rock it cracks like a nut,
splits in twain from end to end, and a capsize in such
turbulent waters as the Goat Rapids invariably means
the end, for no one could hope to swim a yard in that
maelstrom.

We struck the brink of the agitated mass. Immedi-
ately the canoe was caught up like a rock, and bounced
about in all directions, the cross pieces securing the two
boats together groaning and moaning under the strain.
The alert Indians pulled in steady long strokes, the
steersmen dug their paddles deeply and threw their
weight against them. The wonder is that the oars ever
stand the strain. They bent ominously and gave short
sharp cracks, but held out, A large rock stood directly
in our path, and we were making straight for it at about
ten miles an hour. It came nearer and nearer, the
swishing waters making fiendish music.

Every Indian was on his feet, watching that rock.
We were in the spot where the water was racing at its
fastest, and the shores slipped by as if on wheels. The
Indians gave a deep dip into the water, holding the oars
in readiness.

DOWN THE UPPER ERASER i45

"Now then," yelled out Williams. "All together.
Row like hell ! "

The reserve power of the Indians shot out with
tremendous force.

"Hu'son's Bay ! Ooo-ooo-ooo ! Hu'son's Bay ! "

The body of Adventurers trading to the Far North
is evidently the Fort George Siwashes' patron saint, for
whenever spurred to great effort they yell "Hu'son's
Bay ! " to the accompaniment of long , savage pulls ,
mingled with fearsome Cree gutturals, and exclamatory
laughs as of derision at the fury of the water, which
sound peculiarly out of place in desperate situations.

The boat flew on. The rock, with its sharp edge set
towards us, was scarcely ten feet distant, and then with
a mighty swoop the steersman sent the boat shooting
across the river, and we gave a sigh of relief. The rock
had suddenly slipped to our rear. We at least had
cheated it. The water was running still as rapidly, but
was more agitated, and though we flopped about on its
surface like a duck wounded in the wing, we kept saw-
ing from side to side until the last stretch was gained,
when the Indians eased up, just rowing enough to secure
steering way, and we tore along madly.

We seemed an age passing through that troubled mile
of water; as a matter of fact, we rattled through in a
matter of seconds. Then the Fraser, with its char-
acteristic tendency towards striking contrasts, opened
out and became as placid as a lake. The Indians threw
down their oars, and, lolling back, sang one of their
songs in the vernacular, or rapped out untunefully :
"Goo'-bye, li'le gir', goo'-bye," which, being the only
words they knew of the ditty, were repeated to serve as
every line of verse and chorus.

When we camped that night the Indians referred

disdainfully to shooting the Goat Eapids as mere child's

play, though they admitted that if we had shipped much

water we should have been in ?i hole, since swamping

K

146 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

in a rapid is a danger as great and as ever-present as
striking a solid, sharp-edged rock.

"Bu' wait. To-moro' we get Gran' Caneeon. Yo'
fro' Lon'on, we sho' yo' sometin*. We go troo' lik*
dat ! " shooting one palm over the other to indicate a
flash.

CHAPTER XIII
Shooting the Grand Canon

At " Hell's Gate " — Portaging the First Canon — Shooting the Second —
Touch-and-Go — A Grim Warning — A Fertile Valley — Blue Jays —
The (Same Warden's Lonely Life — A Fuel Station — Outracing the
Peterborough Canoe — The Giscombe Rapids — At Fort George.

We had heard much about this Grand Canon. It is re-
garded as one of the worst on the Upper Fraser. Keller
had recounted hairbreadth escapes which he and others
had experienced while in its grip, and had told of the
number who had got "fixed," his crude backwoods ex-
pression for meeting a watery grave, while attempting to
rush it. We had been anticipating the canon with
mixed feelings, and were resolved, come what might, to
pay it the respect it demanded. And here were the
Indians treating it with contempt, although more than
one of their tribe, expert with the paddle as he was,
had entered its gloomy depths never to be seen nor heard
of again, for the canon hugs its secrets tightly.

It was late the next afternoon when we swung round
a huge loop some three hundred yards across the bosom
of the river running its normal pace. Over the trees we
could see where the opposing ranges of mountains sud-
denly swung towards the river to kiss, thereby forming
the narrow fissure through which the waters rush
furiously. Williams was graphic in his description.
"Another few minutes, boys, and we'll be at hell's gate,
so get ready ! ' '

We did, but not to go through. We had decided to
take his and the Indians' advice — walk round. We
crept round the bend, and presently saw a mass of rocks

147

148 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

ahead, rearing up like two lofty walls on either side,
making a portal gloomy and uninviting. We bumped
into the bank, and the more important contents of the
canoes were tumbled out pell-mell. Each man
shouldered as much as he could, and tramped the well-
trodden half-mile of portage through the bush to the
lower end. Portaging is hard work, and it took us an
hour. I w^as just turning to the trail for the last time,
when the Indians crowded round, and each thrust out
his hand. It was not a farewell, but each was giving me
his watch !

"Go shoot caneeon. No tak' watch. Vairy like'y go
over. Nevair know. Ha ! ha ! Shoot la Gran' Caneeon.
We now sho' yo' somet'ing."

Dennis even went to the trouble of guiding me to a
spot where I could snatch a glimpse of them at the
moment when they would be in the grip of the worst
piece of water. The canoes were uncoupled, for each
was to go alone with two men, one in the bow and the
other at the stern.

The mouth of the canon is certainly forbidding. It is
not more than thirty feet across at the entrance, and
the whole waters of the river, suddenly narrowed down
from about 200 feet wide, have to pour through this
gorge. They curl over the brink, and w'hen the canoe
dipped, half its length was out of water. Moreover, the
defile twists and turns, is a mass of evil rocks, and, drop-
ping a matter of feet in half a mile, the stream rushes
through with temfic fury. It was raining hard, the sky
was overladen, and the greyness of the clouds deadened
the green verdure of the primeval forest on either side.
Immediately below, the canon was like a huge devil's
bowl, the water fussing, spluttering and jumping in all
directions.

Presently there was a weird shout, and the first canoe
shot round the corner. The foremost Indian was stand-
ing up working like a Trojan, while the steersman had

SHOOTING THE GRAND CANON 149

literally thrown himself on his paddle to force the boat
round. In an instant he had changed his position, and,
with his foot against the rim of the dug-out to secure
leverage, had squatted and was pulling on the paddle like
grim death, the front Indian rowing as if demented, and
giving vent to fierce cries of " Hu'son's Bay ! " with each
pull. They flew through the bottom portal like a flash
into a big basin, almost a lake, which was quite calm,
pulled the boat round and paddled into the bank as if
shooting the fiendish waters were a mere nothing. The
other canoe followed hard on their heels. Both men
and boats bore traces of the ordeal. The Indians were
puffing like labouring locomotives after their exertion,
were doused with water, and the boat itself was nearly
half-full.

The two canoes were quickly lashed together once
more, and the baggage safely stowed aboard. A hundred
yards below was another canon, and we were to be
shipped across the river and landed on the opposite bank
to make another portage. The second canon looked
even grimmer than the first, for the wall of rbck rose
higher on each side, like huge pillars, and the cavernous
opening was scarcely fifty feet wide, presenting an aspect
of sombre, awful grandeur. It was like peering into a
huge vault, for no daylight could be seen beyond a slight
splash of sky.

We started off, but the Indians, finding the going
easier than they expected, and plenty of water, did not
land us on the opposite bank as arranged, but struck
boldly for the caiion. As we slipped over the brink be-
tween the imposing cliffs, and the boat suddenly awoke
to life as it was caught up by the rushing waters, the
Indians and those of the party equipped with oars jumped
to their feet, while the rest of us were ready with various
articles for baling out any water that might be shipped.
About half-way through, the river turns sharply at right
angles, a buttress of rock thrusting its nose half-way

150 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

across the chaunel, around which the water swirls in a
big eddy. We had reached the turn , and with a tremend-
ous stroke Williams shouted :

" Now then, pull like blazes ! "

Seven paddles dipped simultaneously ; the tremendous
leverage exerted lifted the boat half out of the water and
turned her round as if on a pivot to negotiate the bend.
We shipped a big wave and were baling for dear life,
since the gunwale was almost awash. A mighty roar
broke on our ears as we rounded the rock ; we were on
the edge of a big whirlpool where the water was swing-
ing round at terrific speed and with a vortex some six
feet deep, like a big cup, the bottom of which we could
plainly see as a mass of foam. The canoes had struck
the edge of the whirlpool, and we were being sucked in.
The men rowed harder than ever, the two steersmen
hanging over the canoes as they pushed against their oars
to force the prow of the canoe away from the maelstrom.
They had to dig their finger-nails into their sweeps to
retain their hold, as they could feel the whirlpool tug-
ging at the submerged blades. If one snapped, the
Grand Canon would have "fixed" another party. But
the paddles held, and as the nose of the catamaran was
slowly and almost imperceptibly jammed round, the outer
swirl caught the stern of the canoe and flung it with an
unseating jerk across the river clear of the peril. We
had an anxious thirty seconds battling against the sucking
force of the water, and the Indians showed that they
were "up against it" by their grim faces and the way
they bit their lips. The Siwash may be lazy, but when
he gets into a tight corner he keeps his head and fights
with the strength of a giant. Swamping, or the snap
of a sweep, is the danger they fear, and the way the
canoes groaned as they bent under the dual and opposite
forces might have split the dug-out from end to end,
since the cotton wood , with its straight grain , does not re-
quire much stress to rend it in twain. While the men

SHOOTING THE GRAND CANON 151

were battling with the current, complete silence pre-
vailed, but as we shot across the river they gave vent to
a loud derisive laugh. That is the true Indian. Directly
he has cleared a danger he mocks it.

" That's the thing you've got to avoid coming through
here," commented Williams, nodding towards something
on the bank a few yards below the whirlpool.

That "something" was a rude wooden cross. Two
fellows, a half-breed and a Si wash, were coming through
the canon — expert waterdogs and as skilled in handling
a dug-out as men could be. Like us, they evidently
got caught on the edge of the maelstrom, but at the
critical moment their sweep, unable to stand the awful
strain, gave way, they were tossed into the whirlpool,
and at last the canoe made a straight dive, like a stick
on end, into the wicked vortex. Both were drowned,
and the primitive monument stands there a grim warn-
ing to all and sundry who try to pass through that
troubled stretch. One involuntarily shuddered at the
thought of their fierce struggle against overwhelming
odds, and their feelings when they realised at last the
impotency of their efforts. And they are not the
only ones w^ho have gone to their last account in that
gorge. Every man who attempts to go through, no
matter how clever an oarsman he may be, takes his life
in his hand. Its passage is easier at some times than
at others ; it all depends upon the state of the river and its
velocity. We came through when the water was some-
what high, and uglier than usual.

But the whirlpool, in bitter mortification at its de-
feat, had thrown us away to face another terror. Right
in the middle of the stream reared up a huge rock. The
current sped directly towards it, as we could see by the
mass of dead trees piled up on its head, and curled round
on either side. After we had cleared the whirlpool the
rowers rested, letting the river speed us along until this
new danger confronted us barely thirty feet distant.

152 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

Then they rowed like fury, making for the rock, bow on.
It rushed towards us with fearful speed, and then the
famous cry, "Now then ! Hu'son's Bay ! " rang out again.
The oars bent to the task, the speed of the boat increased,
and when it seemed as if a crash were inevitable the nose
of the catamaran swung round gracefully, and in an in-
stant the rock was well astern. We passed so close that
an oar could have touched the granite fang. The rush-
ing water picked us up, the Indians rested again on their
oars, and we shot out of the rapids as if from a gun on
to a wide stretch of water, for the river suddenly ex-
panded to a width of some three hundred feet and lolled
lazily along. We found out afterwards that we had
portaged the canon which had presented the lesser
dangers, and had had a pretty grim fight with the perils
of the second. George Williams, who knew every inch
of that gorge, said so, and did not wish for another such
shave, and he certainly ought to have known. But in
his characteristic frontier manner he made light of it —
when we were safely through — on the plea that troubles
overcome are not worth a thought ; they may cause the
hair to stand on end for a few minutes, but are incidental
to life in a new country.

The canon negotiated, we said good-bye to the moun-
tains, for they hurried away from the river's bank in
almost a straight line, leaving a wide open valley, covered
with dense brush and towering trees. The river cased up
its pace, which wns not, however, to our fancy, as it in-
volved harder rowing. It is this valley, stretching for
about a hundred miles to Fort George, which is com-
manding the immediate attention of the settlers. The
land is almost as level as a billiard-table, and is well-
watered by rivers and creeks which empty into the
Fraser, the most important tributary on the north side
being the North Fork. The agricultural possibilities on
all sides are immense, for the soil is wonderfully rich,
though clearing is a stupendous task.

SHOOTING THE GRAND CANON i53

Although we were denied the sight of strange human
faces, visitors were not long in making their appearance
when we pitched camp for the midday meal or at night.
These were the blue jays, so-called from their gorgeous
royal-blue plumage. They are exceedingly bold, appear-
ing to know intuitively that their companionship is
welcomed by the wanderers through the bush. They
herald their approach by a jarring screech, and take up
a position in a tree near by to size up the situation.
Like the robin at home, they are perky, and when they
realise that a friendly greeting awaits them, they are
not long before they fly to the ground and hop about the
feet of the campers, snatching this or that piece of food
and beating a hurried retreat to a safe distance to devour
it in peace. In the course of a few minutes they have
become sufficiently tame to take proffered food from an
outstretched hand. These birds are among the few en-
countered in the Fraser Eiver valley, the chicken hawk
and eagles being the object of human hostility, while
the raven is met only occasionally, and never approaches
very closely, preferring to con strangers sagely from the
safe perch of the topmost branch of the highest tree in
the vicinity. No traveller would think of lifting a finger
against the blue jay, and the bird's industrious efforts to
rifle the larder are regarded with amusement. When we
struck camp we invariably left a small colony of them
chattering and fighting over the remnants of food we
had left behind.

While the life of the fire warden whom we met on
Little Smoky Eiver is undoubtedly lonely, yet he has
his family to keep him company. The game warden,
whom we met later, has a far more pitiable existence.
We were making a smart pace down mid-stream when
the sharp eyesight of A-mo detected the outlines of a
Peterborough among the overhanging branches about
half a mile ahead, slowly creeping up the river. We
were travelling through a country rich in moose, the

154 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

shooting of which is sternly prohibited except during
a season of a few days' duration later in the year.
Indeed, the previous afternoon, we had been within a
dozen feet of one of these magnificent creatures while
quietly drinking, and although Dennis had grabbed his
rifle and was about to let drive in true Indian fashion,
the threat of being pitched overboard if he did fire, as
the meat was useless to us, had the desired effect. The
animal lifted its massive head, regarded us with momen-
tary wonder and alarm, and then plunged madly into the
bush.

The game warden was evidently suspicious of us.
He guessed that if we got within bullet's reach of one
of these animals we should not let it escape. The bulky
appearance of our coupled dug-outs confirmed his sus-
picions, and he resolved upon a closer examination. He
pulled his frail boat into the centre of the river, right
in our path, and just paddled sufficiently to off-set the
current. From his position he was enabled to glance
over our approaching vessel from stem to stem, and,
satisfied that we had no contraband aboard, he let us
pass within three feet, with a curt greeting and an in-
quiry as to whether the fire warden was nearabouts.
The game warden wanders up and down the rivers of
this wild country the whole year through. The loneli-
ness is such as can be felt. His home by day is a frail
craft barely eighteen feet in length, while in the bow is
piled up roughly his domicile by night — a small A-tent
and bedding. Sometimes for weeks he never sees a soul
to speak to, and even the Indians and backwoods-
men confessed that, though their positions were lonely,
they preferred their situations to the roaming life and
greater loneliness of Eoberts the game warden. George
Williams sagely summed up the situation in the brief
comment, "No one but a blarmed Englishman would
ever take the job on."

When we were within easy distance of Fort George

SHOOTING THE GRAND CANON i55

we were introduced to another way of making a living
in the bush. We observed a small A-tent on shore, and
could hear the steady plonk, plonk, plonk of an axe en-
gaged in tree-felling. We gave a shrill hail, and in a few
seconds two gaunt, sparsely clad figures appeared at the
water's edge, momentarily ceasing their labours to in-
vestigate the source of the greeting. Beside them was a
huge stock of spht wood. What was it for? Well,
adventurous, enterprising spirits down in Fort George
were planning the steamboat subjugation of the Fraser
River, and fuel was necessary to their scheme. These
shallow-draught river craft burn wood, which is abun-
dant and cheap, in preference to coal, which is scarce and
expensive. Wood-loading stations have to be disposed
at frequent intervals.

These two young fellows heard about the project and
immediately conceived the idea of going up the river and,
at a suitable point, establishing a fuel station. The huge
pile beside them represented a month's labour, and aggre-
gated about 115 cords, firewood measurement. The
steamboat company would pay them 14s. 6d. a cord mea-
suring 4 feet high by the same in depth and 8 feet in
length, so that their four weeks' toil was worth to them,
roughly, a matter of J983. Seeing that their expenses
were practically nothing, comprising only a stock of pro-
visions, a small tent, one or two kitchen utensils, a
blanket or two, and a supply of axes, the whole of which
could be covered by a ten-pound note, it will be seen that
their investment was highly profitable. When the con-
struction of the railway commences through the Fraser
Eiver Valley and the contractors' steamboats hurtle up
and down the waterway with supplies for the camps,
such axemen as these will earn the attractive wage of
above d920 a month, for the engines burn about a cord
of wood per hour.

The day after we passed the Grand Canon we notched
our longest day's run — 62 miles — rowing from 6.30 a.m.

156 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

to 6 p.m., with only 45 minutes' respite for lunch. And
it was hard work all the time ; it was like rowing over a
huge lake, the current being very sluggish and certainly
not making more than four miles an hour, even though it
was slightly in flood.

We had been plodding along for about three hours
when a wreath of smoke was observed curling up from
the trees. Louis instantly gave vent to a long-drawn-out

Wah 000 — wah wah oo — ooo — ooo . ' ' Silence

for a few minutes, broken only by the echoing of the
cry. Then there came across the water the unmistakable
stentorian tones of an American.

"Gee- whiz! You sons of sea cooks got down here
already! Guess you've been going some! Catch you
up in an hour. So long."

It was our friend of the Peterborough canoe, with our
mail from Tete Jaune Cache. We threw back a defiant
shout and laugh. The Indians, inspired by the signs
of a race, rowed harder than ever, and we made the
canoes clip along merrily. Lunch was hurried down,
and we were off again. The Si washes were determined
not to be overtaken by, to their mind, a despicable Peter-
borough while they could row. At 6 o'clock that evening
we caught sight of a few shacks in a clearing among the
trees. It was Giscombe. We pulled in smartly, beached
the canoes, and our dejected spirits were once more re-
vived by the sight of a dozen or so white faces — of settlers
and frontier traders already in possession. We were on
the fringe of civilisation once more, and we sat down to
supper that night with a keener relish than we had had
for five days.

About two hours later the Peterborough drew in and
our mail once more reverted to us. We were a jovial
party that night, for one of these Americans — they both
hailed from the Windy City down in Illinois — was the
most exuberant fellow-creature we had struck for weeks,
and he kept us going with anecdotes, reminiscences, and

SHOOTING THE GRAND CANON i57

experiences of a prospector's life from Klondike to Tete
Jaune Cache, from Nome to Mexico.

The last peril of the river lay a mile distant — the
Giscombe rapids, described by our genial American friend
as "ten miles of hell.'* That was certainly cheering.
However, the Indians were in conclave, and at last sug-
gested that as the occupants of the Peterborough were
unfamiliar with its waters, we should give them a pilot,
and they in return should help us out by carrying some
of our baggage, as our canoes were a trifle too low down
in the water to get through safely. The bargain was
struck, and in the misty dawn the two crews were hard
at work, George Williams agreeing to steer the Peter-
borough .

Giscombe Portage is an important point on the Upper
Fraser. A few miles to the north is the height of land
on the opposite slope of which nestles Summit Lake,
the outlet giving rise to the Crooked Eiver, which forms
one leg of the Parsnip, this becoming in turn the mighty
Peace River, which flows through one of the most fertile
territories in the Great North -West, and finally empties
into the Arctic Ocean as the mighty Mackenzie. The
portage is about nine miles long, and has formed a
well-trodden highway for traffic to the land of the North.
During the Klondike gold rush a large number from
"down South " trekked this way to the new Eldorado.

Our canoes lightened somewhat, they had a higher
freeboard and rode much more easily. The rapids were
a bit wicked, and we were in for some more hair-raising.
It was about 7 o'clock that we pushed ofP on our last lap
of forty -one miles on the Fraser Eiver, and, nursing their
energy for the tussle looming ahead, the Indians sat
stolidly still, just giving a spurt now and again to get
steering way. At last we were within a few yards of the
edge of the choppy run with its twists and turns, con-
trary currents, narrow passages, and bristling rocks
lurking for the most part about two inches below the

158 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

surface, and only showing their whereabouts by ruffs of
foam. The water could be seen running down-hill, and
we were soon in the melee. The Indians, at the prospect
of a race with a light Peterborough, were keen, and
rowed like demons. The manner in which the rapids
have to be criss-crossed is astonishing. First you are
driving at full speed towards the south bank, passing
rocks so closely that you could lean over and touch them ;
then there is a race to the other bank, the Indians cal-
culating the side drift to a nicety. It is touch-and-go the
whole time. The danger of our run through the rapids
was partially removed from our eyes by the inspiriting
race and the evolutions which George Williams was exe-
cuting in the Peterborough, to the dismay of his jovial
companion from Chicago, who could not for the life of
him understand why the pilot wanted to go on expedi-
tions off the beaten channel among a seething mass of
foam and rocks. The Peterborough, riding so lightly,
bounced like a cork, and the amusing American was get-
ting a more than fair share of excitement.

When at last we cleared the broken, swiftly-running
foam — the ten miles had been covered in an hour, and
we had shipped little water — the Indians settled down to
a hard row. We raced that Peterborough time after
time, for it was light and made swift pace. But the
Indians, with their long powerful strokes, could overtake
it and leave it behind with little trouble.

About 3 o'clock we rounded a bend through lofty
tree-clothed banks. Immediately ahead, at the end of our
perspective view of water, was a gap in the endless forest ;
a church spire broke the horizon of timber. Eude shacks
of diminutive size loomed up. We put more effort into
our strokes and sped along. We swung across a broad
estuary — where the blue waters of the Nechaco join the
yellowish-green of the Fraser — shot under a bank on
which were crowded " klootchmans ," as wives of the
Siwashes are called, who laughed, giggled, and threw

SHOOTING THE GRAND CANON i59

greetings to our Indian oarsmen ; hugged the bank for
some distance, and finally pulled up at the mouth of a
mere stream. We clambered ashore, toiled up the slope,
and stood within the shadow of a famous landmark of
New British Columbia — the Hudson's Bay Post, the
white walls of which glistened in the brilliance of the
unsurpassable sunlight. There at our feet lay a town
with a great future — Fort George.

CHAPTEE XIV
A Metropolis in the Making

The Story of Fort George — Its Position in Commercial Strategy — The First
Settlers — An Inland Port that-is-to-be — Streets in Embryo — Soaring
Prices of Freeholds — Recreations — " Hudson's Bay Rum " — Prices
of Commodities — The Story of a Man who Succeeded — A Splendid
Country for Mixed Farming — Fruit Culture and Summer Frosts —
Starting a Newspaper — Taking their Pleasures Madly — The Tele-
phone.

As one looked down upon the pulsating little town,
rapidly pushing out its tentacles of streets and avenues
north and west, forcing the wall of dense forest back
farther and farther, one's thoughts flew back a hundred
years ; recalled Mackenzie's wonderful journey wherein
he discovered the source of the famous river which bears
his name, and on his way out to the Pacific struck the
Fraser Paver near Giscombe Portage and skirted this
point. One almost wonders how he came to miss the
estuary of the Nechaco, since he must have been some-
what puzzled by the strange line which runs well defined
almost down the centre of the river. South of the line
are the muddy waters of the Fraser, while north are the
crystal blue waters of the Nechaco, and it is some time
before the two commingle. The line of demarcation is
plainly visible, and although the estuary of the Nechaco
cannot be discerned readily, since it is hidden by low-
lying islands, giving the Fraser at the junction the ap-
pearance of a lake, yet the two strongly coloured waters
running side by side could not fail to create curiosity.
The only explanation that can be offered is that the
famous explorer must have hugged the south bank very
tightly, in which event, owing to the width of the river,

]6o

A METROPOLIS IN THE MAKING i6i

the phenomenon would escape his observation from a
canoe.

The trading post dat«s back from the year 1807, and
was named in honour of the then reigning King, Much
water has rolled past Fort George since that day : the old
and stout wooden walls have witnessed strange sights and
passed through many vicissitudes ; but the strangest
episode of all was the appearance of a few sturdy adven-
turous spirits, some three or four years ago — almost a
century to the year after the foundation of the post —
with their axes and blankets, who set to work sedulously
to lay the foundations of what cannot help becoming the
capital city of New British Columbia.

The position is commercially strategical. There is
every attribute for development into a busy hub. The
Fraser flows by the front door ; the Nechaco rolls by the
back entrance, meandering through a wonderfully fertile
valley of nearly 300,000 acres. The mountains, in the
hollows of which the innumerable streams rise and flow
northwards to swell the great rivers pouring into the
Arctic seas, run in ridges radiating from this point like
the spokes of a wheel ; and pushing westwards from the
north through their passes, one eventually comes to this
focus. In fact, all roads from the north, east and west
lead to Fort George, and those who, four years ago, had
the prescience and tenacity to state that Fort George
would become a "humming " city, are heaping up corro-
boration every day. When the Grand Trunk Pacific
comes in from the north-west, west, and east, when
Edmonton is less than twenty-four hours' ride to the east,
and the Pacific at Prince Rupert aad Vancouver is
about the same space of time distant on the west, then
much will be doing. The town will go ahead with a rus-h
as the railway unveils new fields of industry, and creates
new openings for human activity.

When the town-builders arrived on the scene a pretty
problem faced them. They must have cast envious eyes

i62 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

upon the thousand-acres tract of the Indian reservation,
occupying the angle at the junction of the rivers, where
some 200 Siwashes drag out a miserable existence by
eome means or other, and live under conditions which an
English dog would spurn — for it was the only open level
stretch of country for miles around. But casting round
half a mile below the village they found the high bank
of the river giving way to a gentle slope, where first-class
mooring facilities for shallow-draught vessels could be
easily and inexpensively provided.

Yet the outlook was forbidding in the extreme.
Dense scrub and towering trees lapped the water, and
stretched back in an unbroken tangled mass to the ridge
behind. Undeterred by the prospect, they set bravely to
work. In a short space of time they had cleared a large
area, and had plotted a network of streets on the
American plan, where the main avenues run in one
direction — broad thoroughfares from 60 to 80 feet wide
— with the lateral arteries crossing at right-angles at
regularly spaced intervals. The moment the plots were
staked out, they sold under the hammer like hot cakes.
Inside plots facing the main thoroughfares down by the
waterside fetched from dG80 to £95 apiece, while comers
with frontages on two streets ran up to as much
as dG200. The purchasers squatted on their freeholds in
tents, bravely facing privations and adventure. As soon
as the steam engine and circular saw were brought up
from the south by superhuman effort, erected, and set to
work ripping the tree-trunks into planks, the settlers
changed from canvas to wooden dwellings. When I
arrived, the town was in the throes of this transition to
timber. The next development is permanent masonry,
but much will happen before that move is made. The
community has got to shake itself down ; has to let the
different social, industrial and commercial districts de-
fine themselves, and determine their own particular
localities. At present Fort George is in the melting-pot

A METROPOLIS IN THE MAKING 163

stage; everyone is too busy setting the foundations of
the city firmly and irremovably to trouble about which
is east and which is west from the social point of view.

It was a frontier town in the fullest sense of the word.
Consider the situation and conditions, then you can gain
some idea of the formidable nature of the task confront-
ing the builders in converting into a hive of industry what
had been forest since British Columbia was moulded.
The nearest railway station was Ashcroft, 318 miles to
the south. Every ounce of material had to be brought
across country by animal labour, and freight soared to
fancy prices. From Ashcroft, fortunately, the Cariboo
Eoad, a splendidly built highway — ^itself a product and
reminiscence of an early gold stampede — ran northwards
for 163 miles to Soda Creek on the Fraser Kiver. But
the path thence, for 155 miles, was existent more in name
than in actuality.

When the nucleus of Fort George's population came
in, they had a rough experience, for the last stretch
was a fierce hand-to-hand fight with deadfall, obstructed
trail, rock and muskeg. When the subsequent rush set
in — a host of other ' ' Fort Georges ' ' sprang into exist-
ence in the vicinity of the pioneer town owing to the suc-
cess of the initial enterprise — the sight was fearful, and
the plight of those surging forward to get in on the
"ground floor" recalled the fearful struggle to reach the
Klondike overland from Edmonton. The sun had just
begun to drive hoary winter back to the Arctic Circle,
and the going was difficult. The stream of speculators,
traders and others tumbled out of the train at Ashcroft
and poured northwards as best they could. Some seized
the stage, others rode on horseback, but a larger number
walked, reeling off some twenty or thirty miles a day,
swallowing meals hurriedly at stopping-places at two
ehillings apiece, and passing the night either wrapped in
a blanket under a tree, or jammed into the cramped bed-
room of a stopping-place or stable, for which accommoda-

164 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

tion they had to pay two shillings. Anyone who has
endeavoured to woo a few hours' repose in one of these
shacks will readily admit that Sam Weller's twopenny
rope ranked as a feather-bed in comparison. The stop-
ping-places drove a thriving trade, as did also the cattle
dealers at Ashcroft, who flocked there in large numbers
with pack-horses which they sold to luckless travellers at
£20 per head, but which would have been dear at half
the price.

South Fort George pursued the even tenor of its way
unconcerned. It held the long stretch of waterfront, and
that was a vital consideration, for down at Soda Creek
shallow-draught steamboats were being built, and soon, for
the first time since its birth, the mighty Upper Fraser and
its forests echoed the shriek of a siren and the throb of
a piston. The arrival of the first steamboat was received
with tremendous jubilation by the Fort Georgers. They
were now in touch with civilisation as represented by
Quesnel and Soda Creek. Then another advance was
made. A stage coach ran between Ashcroft and Soda
Creek, connecting with the steamers, and covering the
163 miles in three days. But such transport was too
slow ; there was no room for eighteenth-century methods
out in a twentieth-century territory, for the new town
was going ahead like a bush-fire. Commerce clamoured
for more rapid travel. It came in the form of a motor-
car, which reeled off the 163 miles between Ashcroft
and Soda Creek in ten or twelve hours. That was
something like travelling.

Once the town was cut off for two months by a mishap
to a steamboat, and the inhabitants were reduced to
famine. Did they sit down and bemoan their fate? Not
by any means. Down on Fort George's waterfront
brawny workmen set to work building the hull of a
steamboat, and, what was more, safely committed it to
the bosom of the Fraser. The machinery was brought
up with infinite labour and at prodigious expense and sue-

A METROPOLIS IN THE MAKING 165

cessfully installed, so that it was not long before the new
creation was whisking up and down the waterway. The
maiden trip of that vessel was a red-letter day for the
interior of British Columbia. A town of less than one
hundred people who could build and launch a fair-
sized steamboat without the hundred-and-one facilities
of a shipyard, could do anything !

Fort George is likely to develop into a busy inland
port. The shallow-draught boats, after establishing
themselves on the Fraser between Soda Creek and the
new town, undertook voyages of discovery up the various
other rivers. This was a somewhat daring enterprise,
considering the swift currents, lurking dangers, and
absence of all knowledge concerning their navigation.
The only pilots available were the Indians, and it was
found that their intelligence was remarkably reliable, so
thoroughly have they studied the idiosyncrasies of these
treacherous waterways. The smallest and shallowest-
draught vessel was employed for this exploration work,
and it succeeded in making its way up the Fraser as far
as Tete Jaune Cache, ascended the Nechaco to Fort
Fraser, a matter of 120 miles, and also the Stuart Eiver
to Fort St. James on Stuart Lake, 139 miles. These
investigations conclusively proved that there are about
1,000 miles of navigable waters available to shallow-
draught steamers in the interior of British Columbia
which can be exploited profitably, and of which Fort
George is the obvious centre, including a continuous
stretch of 470 miles on the Eiver Fraser.

We found the town in the full excitement of develop-
ment. Main Street was paved with some inches of dust,
and had a surface something like the edge of a saw, though
timber sidewalks were provided. One avenue was in
flames ; another was a piled-up mass of levelled tree trunks
smouldering and smoking ; one cross-street was impass-
able unless you had an axe to cut your way through the
bush ; while four feet of muskeg ooze and slime barred

i66 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

another. The plans showed streets almost without
number, but it would have been impossible to locate them
in the forest, though the wooden pegs were somewhere
there, setting out the delimitations.

Every man was in his shirt-sleeves doing something
or other. Down on the waterside the saw-mill was
screeching from morning to night ripping up logs, and
the 30,000 feet of lumber it turned out in the day disap-
peared like magic at anything between £6 and iGlO per
thousand lineal feet. Twice the quantity could have
been absorbed, and then there would have been demands
for more. Labour was scarce, wages were heavy ; the
Indians stood stolidly by and refused to touch a tool un-
less paid from 16s. to £1 a day. White labour soared up
to 25s. a day, with all found. One English carpenter was
netting 29s. a day, and when offered a job for the winter
a few miles out, refused to take it under 62s. a day, with
all found ! There was not a soul idle in the whole place,
and workshies and law-breakers, if they did reach this
point, were treated in a peculiarly drastic and effective
manner. There was no argument : they were made to
work. There was no such thing as charity for unem-
ployed, as the demand for labour far exceeded the supply.

The clerks of two banks were endeavouring to work
scheduled hours, but business ruled otherwise; the little
restaurant started by two enterprising young waitresses
who had hurried up from Quesnel in the first move to the
town was striving hard to fulfil all demands for meals
three times a day at 2s. apiece per head. Those who
could not get a seat inside the restaurant secured their
victuals and enjoyed an alfresco meal sprawling on a
plank or the bare ground ; a baker was turning out 1-lb.
loaves at a shilling apiece and dough nuts at four a shilling,
clearing out his stock before the morning was gone ; land
agents were busy selling lots, for the freeholds were
constantly changing hands, and the prices soared upwards
like an aeroplane, those who had paid originally £80 or

A METROPOLIS IN THE MAKING 167

£95 for an inside plot selling readily at dGlSO upwards,
while corner lots which were bought at the auction for
jG200 found buyers at anything from £300 upwards ;
timber-frame shops and dwellings were springing up like
mushrooms : a bare plot to-day was covered with an
imposing frame building to-morrow, and occupied the
next day ; stores were serving an endless stream of cus-
tomers with requirements of all descriptions.

Ample recreation was provided in the pool room , where
snooker, Boston, and pyramids held sway. When the
frequenters grew tired of cue and ivories the tables were
pushed into a corner and vent was found for exuberance
in dancing to the strains of a wheezy, expiring gramo-
phone, in footwear which could scarcely be described as
ballroom, for heavy hobnailed half-inch soles clattered
over the uneven knotty boards. Opposite was a small
gambling hell presided over by a Chinaman, whence
continually issued, "Hit me! Hit me again!" as
black-jack was briskly played, with poker and other
games of chance. This saloon was a certain outlet for
money, and as Johnny is an inveterate gambler, partici-
pating with keen gusto in the games, always winning, he
was acquiring a pretty long and heavily weighted stock-
ing. To play a game of chance with a Chinaman is like
pitting oneself against an automatic machine.

An interesting psychological sidelight was afforded at
this gambling den. There was one worthy who was
possessed of some fine horses, one of which was always
hitched to the door-post. It stood there for hours while
its owner was inside trying to win fortune with the
cards. Presently there would be a hubbub. The player
emerged having lost everything. "Here! how much for
the plug?" drawing attention to his horse. "Give me
eighty dollars ! What, too much ! Well, say seventy !
No good ! Sixty ! Fifty ! Gee-whiz ! you are a lot of
robbers. Who says forty?" Eventually the horse
would change hands for about thirty dollars, and, armed

i68 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

with the greenbacks, the gambler once more disappeared
exultantly into the saloon. When he won — and he did
often and heavil}' at that — he came out, and bought back
his horse for double the price he had received. If he lost
he simply staggered back to his tent, to reappear the next
day with another animal and to repeat the same round.

Fort George was a "dry" town — officially. Actually
it was "wetter" than a licensed community bristling
with gin-palaces. Drink was freely smuggled in, while
"rock-cut" was brewed extensively in a certain quarter
and vended as "Hudson's Bay Rum" to secure a ready
sale, this being the most famous drink in the West. It
was as much like Hudson's Bay Rum as salad oil is
like Chartreuse. The opium or nicotine juice with which
it was saturated provoked intoxication in the shortest
possible space of time, and the Indians were to be seen
on every hand staggering and reeling under its baneful
influence. The larger, well-ordered section of the com-
munity endeavoured to check this abuse, but in vain.
There was no policeman within a hundred miles, so the
law could not be invoked. Had the brewer and vendor
been caught red-handed he would have received short
shrift, for both he and his evil machinery would have
made a sudden acquaintance with the Fraser. But his
hour of retribution came in due course. We heard that
a police inspector stole up from Quesnel and caught the
" blind pig ' ' very much alive. It squealed terribly while
being put out of business, the owner was fined heavily
on the spot, and given two years' imprisonment, or as an
alternative to the latter to leave the province within a
week. He preferred exile, and his pockets were sadly
depleted when, amid general execration, he departed.

Fort George was a town in which money was made
easily and melted quickly. You -went into a store.
Nothing was less than "two bits" — a survival of the
Spanish influence in California — the term generally used
throughout the province to denote the equivalent of an

A METROPOLIS IN THE MAKING 169

English shilling, and the tradesmen, not approving of
metal currency, were endeavouring to make the paper
dollar the standard. For instance, you could buy two
1-lb. pots of jam for eighty cents — 3s. 4d. — but three for a
dollar, and so on. Other articles were sold in the same
manner. In a frontier country, paper money is certainly
preferable to coins, being less bulky and weighty, while
the possibility of loss is more remote, the frontiersman
carrying his "wad" rolled snugly in a little purse sewn
to his belt.

No possible stretch of imagination could call Fort
George a poor man's town. As we were striking the
trail again to travel 320 miles across New Caledonia, we
had to provision here. The prices, which would have
provoked hysteria in an English housewife, were as
follows : —

Flour
Sugar .
Fresh meat .
Tea and coffee
Rice
Butter .
Dried fruits
Rolled oatmeal
Peaches, apricots
Bacon .
Eggs .
Bread .

etc

62s.

Is.

Is.

4s.

Is.

3s.

Is.

53.

2s.
Is.
4s.
Is.

per 100 Iba.
per lb.

per 5-lb. bag
6d, per 2-lb,

tin.

oa. per s;-id. iin.
8d. to Is. lOid. per lb.
per dozen,
per 1-lb. loaf.

When it is remembered that it cost the merchants £20
per ton to haul their produce from Ashcroft, the reason
for these high prices is readily appreciable. The baker,
who, like many other Fort George pioneers, had trekked
to this point from the Klondike after the gold fever died
out, said that he paid £32 per ton more for his flour in
Fort George than it had cost him in Dawson City !

Vegetables and farm produce were just as expensive.
Potatoes ranged from 5d. to 3d. per lb., according to
season, and easily fetched 14s. 6d. per bushel. Cabbages,

170 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

peas, and greens were 4d. per lb. all round, while
chickens were a luxury at 16s. 6d. each.

Yet fortunes have been made in Fort George and its
immediate vicinity by many a bright young fellow. One
large landholder related a fascinating and romantic story,
typical of dozens of others in this new territory. Like
every other member of the little community, he was in
his shirt-sleeves, bared to the elbow. He was no stranger
to Fort George; on the contrary, he was one of the
first white men, apart from the trappers and traders, to
thread the country. According to his own account he
first came into the district in 1900, having made his way
here by canoe from the Peace Eiver district, portaging
across country from one river to the other, and making
165 miles in nine days of continuous hard toiling. He
naturally came down the Nechaco and Fraser rivers,
since Vancouver was his objective, and the Siwash canoes
piloted him down the terrible waterway through its
swirling canon to Quesnel and Soda Creek, where he
struck the Cariboo Eoad.

His home was Boston way ; Harvard his alma mater,
and he had graduated in medicine, just to satisfy his
parents, so he said. But forceps and drugs did not
appeal to his temperament. The Great North-West of
Canada exercised an irresistible fascination over him, so
he left the Atlantic seaboard and set off to the great un-
known. He made a prolonged cruise through the Peace
River district, a keenly observant eye fastening on the
most attractive spots. The next year found him again
casting about Fort George from Giscombe Eapids to
Summit Lake; round Stuart Lake and through the
Nechaco Valley. In this wise two summers were spent.
He spotted many an excellent stretch, carefully making
notes of just the land he would like to acquire. In all
he staked 20 sections — 12,800 acres of land. When he
opened negotiations with the Government for its acquisi-
tion, he was regarded somewhat with pity, inasmuch as

A METROPOLIS IN THE MAKING 171

this region was practically a terra incognita, and official-
dom had no idea of its agricultural wealth. As a result,
he secured the land practically at his own figure — a matter
of cents per acre. Eetuming home, he succeeded in en-
listing the interest of some friends, impressed upon them
the point that this new country was bound to boom
sooner or later, and that, taken all round, it was a "good
thing." A small syndicate was formed, and with the
financial support thus provided the valleys of the Fraser
and Nechaco rivers were skimmed of their cream in the
way of choice land at leisure to the tune of some 200,000
acres.

The little party clung tightly to its holdings until the
financial panic of 1907 startled everyone in the United
States. His friends were infected with the general atmo-
sphere of uncertainty, took alarm, and forthwith an-
nounced that they had held on to this New British
Columbia land long enough , and as there was no prospect
of the long-expected " boom " materialising, they were
going to unload their shares in the worthless wilderness.
By dint of great effort he contrived to buy out the whole
of their holdings, and thereby found himself the undis-
puted owner of over 315 square miles of arable country
scattered through New Caledonia within easy reach of
Fort George. Scarcely had he bought out his fidgety
friends than the rush to New British Columbia set in,
and he found his property doubling, trebling and
multiplying in value with astonishing rapidity.

"I was convinced in my own mind," he said, "that
once the general public received an inkling of the possibili-
ties of the new land of promise, a wave of prosperity would
burst upon it. But I could not induce my friends to see
eye to eye with me at the time. Now they are sorry
they backed out during the general money scare. What
is the land worth to-day? Well, it is impossible to say,
but I should have no difficulty in obtaining £S to £4 per
acre for that still in its virgin condition, and at that price

172 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

could realise the whole of my possessions in next to no
time. Prices just now are soaring rather high and fabu-
lous amounts are being paid — prices out of all proportion
to the value of the land changing hands. Only a few
days ago a pioneer here netted £10 an acre for what had
cost him only a dollar or so. This, however, is an out-
side figure, and considering that this is untouched coun-
try, it is too much.

"What do I intend to do with my land? Well, I am
developing it as fast as I can, but labour is against me.
Most of what is already under cultivation is under hay,
and I am putting another area under the same crop right
away. I have just signed a contract to that effect. The
contractors undertake to do what little clearing is neces-
sary and to complete breaking the ground this autumn.
Then next spring they will disk plough, seed the hay
(timothy) ; the whole for an inclusive price of 24s. per
acre. That is a fair price under the circumstances. Of
course, if heavy clearing were necessary, the prices would
be much higher, but coming in here so many years ago
I had the time and opportunity to make a careful selec-
tion and to secure land which is open or only lightly
covered with poplar."

Seeing that this pioneer had been in the country ao
long, and had secured conclusive evidence from experi-
ence of just what the land could and could not produce, his
views on the agricultural possibilities of the locality are
worth relating,

"This will be a great mixed farming country, the
potentialities of which it is impossible to fathom. What
are the most remunerative crops? Well, just at the
moment, and until the railway enters the district, there-
by bringing valuable markets into immediate touch with
the growers, hay and oats will enable the farmer to re-
coup his outlay upon land within a year or two. Take
hay, for instance. Here, owing to the high cost of
freightage — £20 per ton from Ashcroft — this readily com-

A METROPOLIS IN THE MAKING 173

mands from £8 to £10 per ton. Last winter fodder ran
up to £37 lOs. per ton, and was difficult to obtain at
that price. I saw one of my sections which is under hay
yesterday, and there were 500 tons of first-class timothy
standing. Why, even wild hay grows to a height of 5
and 5^ feet, and yields from 3 to 4 tons per acre. You
see, when seeded to hay there is no further expense
beyond cutting, after the first year, for there is no need
to re-seed for ten or fifteen years. Then take oats. The
price here at the present time is 10s. per bushel, and you
could not get twenty bushels in the town to-day at that
price. I am putting some 1,200 acres under oats this
year, netting my first crop next season.

How about mixed farming ? One of the best dis-
tricts in the Dominion at the moment for this phase of
agriculture, and the chances here for the British farmer,
who from his experience in Great Britain, where he has to
make the most of his land, knows just exactly how to
set about the task in the most business-like manner, are
unique, to my way of thinking. Cattle-ranching, pure
and simple, does not pay. I have had eleven years' ex-
perience of that game and have not drawn a single cent
from the investment yet. But associate the stock raising
industry with dairying, poultry farming, the cultivation
of vegetables, cereals, and roots, and then the chances of
making money quickly are difficult to equal elsewhere.

"Is fruit culture profitable? Well, so far as the
Nechaco Valley is concerned, I can emphatically say that
it possesses great possibilities. Cherries and apples ap-
pear to do excellently, as do also gooseberries, currants
and general ground fruits. It has been said that the
summer frosts are detrimental. The valleys certainly
do suJBfer from that drawback, but it does not appear to
react very severely on the fruit. At all events, summer
frosts are only to be expected in any new country, but
as the territory becomes extensively settled they will dis-
appear, as experience in Ontario, Manitoba, and the

174 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

other prairie provinces has exemplified abundantly. The
ground in the dense forests, owing to the sun being shut
out, is cold and ice-laden, but when the land is cleared,
and the soil well broken and aerated, this disadvantage
will not afflict the farmer any longer."

Another little hive of activity was a small shack mea-
euring barely 12 feet by 10, and even this diminutive
space was subdivided. In the front part a compositor
was busily setting type, and in a small cupboard-like
space at the rear a young journalist, Mr. J. B. Daniells,
was turning out "copy" with the aid of Egyptian
cigarettes. He was in his shirt-sleeves, buried under
a large sombrero, with a box as his desk, a jar as his
ink-pot, a typewriter as an elbow rest, and a murderous-
looking Browning automatic pistol as a paper weight.
He was an alert, keen-eyed, young fellow, bred and
reared in the Midlands, who had emigrated to Canada
in the days of his early youth, knocked about the
Dominion, putting his hand to anything which would
earn a few dollars and yield experience, until he landed
in the Cariboo district, where he settled down to control
the local Fourth Estate.

"Come in, you wandering Britisher," he shouted
cheerily, and then, tilting back his chair and perching
his doubled-up legs against his desk, he went on:
"Cramped quarters for an editor's sanctum, eh? Well,
I've got a new home going up — see that large frame
building yonder? I shall be in there in a few days, and
shall have room to stretch myself out. What's running
a newspaper on the frontier like? Well, not so bad. If
you're cute you can make money at it ; if you're not, you
get landed in the ditch. I've made a good thing down in
Cariboo, and so, when this place was launched I came
up here. Starting a newspaper in such an out-of-the-way
place is certainly somewhat expensive. I've sunk dG2,000
in this enterprise, and am going to carry it through neck
or nothing. No ! I'm not the only expression of public

A METROPOLIS IN THE MAKING 175

opinion. There's another paper in the new town. Does
it pay? Well, I should smile; you wouldn't catch me
here if it didn't," flicking the end off his cigarette.
"Where's the revenue? Well, not in the circulation, I
can assure you." Seeing that the combined towns in the
vicinity boasted a population of less than 300, I readily
concurred.

"I'll tell you how money's made in this line up
here. It's the advertisements ! "

I looked incredulously at him. If circulation were
impossible, the feasibility of such a small community
soliciting trade among themselves two or three hundred
miles from civilisation was still more visionary. He ob-
served my lack of comprehension, and went on:

"Guess you're a tenderfoot in western journalism,
anyway. Look here," picking up the last issue of his
Cariboo property. "There's so many solid pages of land
advertisements. You see, when you stake land in British
Columbia, according to the law you have to advertise your
claim in the Government gazette, and also in the paper
published nearest the locality in which the land is situate.
The charges are regulated by law, and I can tell you when
a land boom is raging such as is taking place about here
at the moment, that revenue mounts up pretty respect-
ably. In British Columbia frontier towns new organs of
the Press don't come into existence at first for the dis-
semination of news, but are essentially vehicles for the
publication of land advertisements. Nobody in a new
country bothers about what the world is doing ; but they
are mighty anxious to find out if Jack Kobinson has
already staked such-and-such a piece of land upon which
they have cast covetous eyes ; or whether Tom Smith or
Bill Jones is attempting to claim that stretch which they
have already staked. Advertisements out here are read
with greater avidity than the most sensational news
ijtems. What happens when the land boom dies out?
Oh, if you have not established yourself by the time the

176 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

town develops, and cannot run along on the legitimate
newspaper lines, you simply pack up your traps and hike
with your press to the next spot which is looming big in
the land speculation field.

"Still, the expenses are heavy. This paper has to Be
' kicked out ' by myself and the printer outside on a
small handpress. His wages are an item — £40 a month.
Guess printers on the other side don't make £10 a week.
In my new printing-office I am setting up a larger press
with a petrol motor drive. But it has cost me, in freight-
age, half the price of the machine to get it here, and I
am paying eight dollars a case for petrol — roughly 3s. 4d.
a gallon. No, running a newspaper in the wilds is not
all honey, but when I want a change I take this — indicat-
ing his Browning — and that — pointing to a 22 — and go
ofF for a ' bar.' There's plenty round here, and the
sport relieves the worries of an editor to a mighty
degree."

The builders of Fort George do not believe in devot-
ing their whole lives to work, even though it does mean
the upbuilding of a metropolis. They know the truth of
the old adage about Jack and continuous work, so are
resolved to avoid its stultifying influences. But amuse-
ment has to be created. This takes the form of what
for a better term can only be described as a "maffick,"
otherwise an outburst of exuberant spirits piled up during
six days, to find vent on the seventh. It starts about
dusk, and the whole town is given over to general uproar
until the succeeding dawn. Jollification is represented
by buck-dancing and other forms of the art in the open
street, a raucous singing procession round the whole
town, practical joking, the lusty chanting of the latest
music-hall ditties woefully out of tune, cat-calls, whistling,
and the frantic manipulation of any instrument capable
of emitting a noise, musical or otherwise. Should any
member of the community have been guilty of an action
disapproved by the colony at large, the first succeeding

A METROPOLIS IN THE MAKING i77

"bust-up" finds him a victim. The primitive revelries
are kept up until sheer exhaustion, or the breaking of
dawn, compels one and all to hie to their couches, to re-
appear the next morning ready for an allotted task as if
nothing had happened.

Yet Fort George was not so isolated as appeared on
first acquaintance. A pair of copper wires drooped along
Main Street to pull up abruptly at the baker's shop. The
announcement "Public Telephone " arrested our civilised
eyes. Here we could learn something of what the world
at large was doing, for this telephone trailed sixty miles
through the silent woods to a little cabin where it linked
up with the single telegraph wire running from Ashcroft
to Dawson City, not far from the Arctic circle. It was a
handshake with civilisation contrasting vividly with the
wild harum-scarum little colony in which we were
planted for the time being. But the true frontiersman
resented its intrusion. It deprived the distant town of
that inaccessible, cut-off feeling, which he so warmly
cherishes. He cursed that "talking wire " more furiously
than any other newfangled notion which broke up his
environment. The steamboat was bad enough, but that
telephone — "it was the limit." Although months would
elapse before the iron horse stepped in, that 'phone had
unsettled everything. Several true old dogs of the wilds,
who have built up many a humming town in Canada,
were talking seriously of moving on. The great problem
was, "Where shall we go?" and they reiterated the
query in pitiful tones. The Klondike was as open as
the city, New British Columbia was being unfolded to
the public searchlight more and more every day, and
Alaska was being surveyed ! There was only one un-
touched virgin field in the whole North American con-
tinent, from the Gulf of Mexico to Hudson's Bay. When
we left vibrating Fort George, these rugged old fellows
of the bush were discussing among themselves the ad-
visability of trekking to this pasture new ; planning ways
M

178 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

and means of bringing their efforts to bear upon this
possible field for their activity. And that field, wrapped
in an air of wild romance and presenting a most forbid-
ding prospect, and to reach which involved a march right
across the Continent, was the last place in Canada —
Ungava !

CHAPTER XV
On the Skirts of a Bush Fire

Sam the Packer — A Town that did not Come Off — Character of the Land
around Fort George — A Paradise of Vegetables — A Bush Fire —
Strange Atmospheric Effects — Danger from Falling Trees.

Noon had sped by half an hour or so, and the summer sun
was blazing down furiously from a cloudless sky as the
last diamond hitch was thrown on the Fraser's banks.
Even then we had to move out with only one packer,
Sam by name, the other not being well enough to con-
tinue the journey. Sam, with Mexican blood coursing
through his veins, worked like a Trojan, and was about
the finest exponent of his rough craft whom I en-
countered on my journey through Canada. Well-built,
with a constitution hardened to steel from prolonged
roughing it, an expert horseman, possessed of giant
strength, he was just the man for the trail and a tight
comer, while he was even more remarkable for his
conscientiousness. He nursed his horses, and their co-
ordinate working was a feature that we much appre-
ciated, for a harmonious pack-train contributes to easy,
rapid progress.

The life of the pack-horse is hard and monotonous
enough, in all conscience, but so long as he is kept in
as prime a condition as is possible with grass feeding
in the bush, he will keep plodding along at his steady
pace, up hill and down dale, for hour after hour. These
animals never see an oat from one month's end to an-
other, since the packer must make his journeys while he
can — otherwise while the weather lasts, and no sooner

has he safely carried one party to its destination than

179

i8o THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

he immediately loads up and strikes off somewhere else.
The pack train is the tramp-ship of the bush. It very
seldom has a regular scheduled sailing between two dis-
tinctive points, but wanders from pillar to post, some-
times not catching a glimpse of the home port during the
whole summer.

As we skirted the Hudson's Bay post, having bid
adieu to the hustling frontiersmen building up the nucleus
of British Columbia's capital, and struck across the
Indian reservation, we met a "hiker" coming in.

" Whar yar hiking? "

"Hazelton!"

"Guess yar'd better turn back. See that!" point-
ing to a thick streak of yellowish brown trailing in a
long-drawn-out blotch in the blue August sky on the
horizon immediately ahead. "Well, a fierce bush fire's
raging out thar. I guess you'll never get through. It's
right along th' trail."

However, we determined to try our luck. Fortun-
ately there was no wind, so that the fire could not be
lashed into fury and make one of its characteristic sweep-
ing rushes through the country, while should rain break
its early extinction was inevitable. Throughout the
whole of New British Columbia the summer had been
one of exceptional dryness, and the dead vegetation,
moss with which the ground is carpeted like a heavy pile,
as well as the ground growth, was as dry as tinder, and
flared like shavings. A drought, however, in this country
is not likely to act detrimentally to crops, for the dews
are heavy. We pulled over the ridge dominating the dis-
tant town, ploughing through a soft sand and gravel
where jack-pine grew luxuriantly. In the course of an
hour we came into a maze of broad swathes cut through
the forest, running at right angles to one another. We
had entered one of the speculative tow as which had been
born of the Fort George boom. The main avenue was a
fine cut through the forest, its name was painted up in

ON THE SKIRTS OF A BUSH FIRE i8i

big letters, but it was an utter blank. The streets were
there, but unfortunately the people had not been found
who were prepared to flank the thoroughfares with sub-
stantial buildings. The timber hotel, rapidly approaching
completion, presented the only sign of humanity. This
town was side-tracked badly. Whether it will ever be
put on the rails of progress once more one cannot say.
Canada is a country for rudely upsetting theories and
preternaturally sage prognostications.

We were told that practically every acre of the land
we were now traversing had been purchased by specula-
tors at a dollar or so an acre. We felt sorry for any fool
who plunged here on hearsay, for while some of this land
is of agricultural value, much is absolutely useless from
the arable point of view, even the grass having a difficulty
in forcing its green blades between the stones. The
purchaser here on the strength of advertisement will
be worse off than the plunger who buys blindly in a
salted mine. He will not secure a rich farm nor even a
quarry — he will simply buy one of Nature's refuse piles
in which only the straggling roots of the jack-pine can
find nourishment, and that only sufficient for a stunted
growth. It is no more productive than the summit of
Snowdon, or the glaciers of the Eockies. If anyone is
bent on acquiring land in the vicinity of Fort George
it is best to cruise round and make a selection on the
spot. Land can be obtained here at 24s. an acre, such
as it is, but it is dear at that figure. If you cannot visit
the country, then the next best advice that can be ex-
tended is to communicate with the British Columbia
Government. The authorities will furnish the names
and addresses of thoroughly trustworthy land agents, who
can be relied upon tb give a square deal.

Here and there within the dells sloping towards the
waters of the Nechaco we struck rich streaks of land , the
fertility of which passes description. For instance, a
few miles beyond Fort George the land suddenly dipped.

i82 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

and there amid the tall, huge timber we came across
a small patch where a settler had pluckily stripped the
land of the trees and brought it under cultivation. About
five acres in all were productive. Three had been given
over to hay, the crop of which had just been gathered,
and a fine healthy-looking stack it made — quite sufficient
to meet the requirements of the settler's cattle during
the coming winter. The remaining two acres had been
planted with potatoes, and these were then in the prime
of their growth, with large well-developed haulm which
testified strikingly to the feeding power of the soil. The
"murphy " is a profitable crop in Canada, since the native
would as lief think of sitting down to a dinner from
which potatoes were absent as the Scotsman would think
of breakfasting without porridge. This settler had taken
over a quarter of a section — 160 acres — but the density
of the bush made clearing slow and tedious. Yet from
his own account he could not quarrel with his luck. The
previous year he had raised two acres of potatoes, and the
crop had netted him £200. This year he was reckoning
on as large, if not a larger financial return from the same
source, since prices due to greater demand were higher.
The astonishing point was that he had not tilled the
soil. This was just a thick deposit of decayed vegetable
matter and alluvium, for in the distant past his farm
was at the bottom of a large lake occupying the whole
of the depression known as the Nechaco Valley. This
light, nourishing topsoil was so soft that one could plunge
one's arm up to the armpit without meeting the subsoil.
All that was necessary was to make the drills, push the
tubers in with the fingers, bank up, and then let them
grow.

A little farther on we came upon another settlement
where about the same acreage was under cultivation.
In this case the crops were of a more varied character,
coinciding very closely with an English kitchen garden or
mixed farm. There were patches of turnips, carrots,

ON THE SKIRTS OF A BUSH FIRE 183

parsnips, lettuces, cabbages, and so on. The white
turnips had grown to an immense size, those we pulled
up ranging up to ten inches in circumference, beautifully
solid from rind to core, and as palatable as any English-
grown root of this species. The carrots were long,
measuring about eighteen inches from crown to tip, well
formed, free from woodiness or fibre, sound and of excel-
lent colour. The parsnips seemed to be equally good,
though those were early days to judge this root; still,
they measured about three inches across the crown. The
beet also were doing well. The lettuces were large and
succulent, and though not possessing the crispness char-
acteristic of the English variety, were yet of excellent
flavour. The cabbages were large, the hearts well turned
in, and of good shape. The new settler in these parts has
certainly one advantage over his British confrere. He is
not pestered with worms, caterpillars, and other plagues
which wreak such havoc in the field or garden, while the
lightness and richness of the soil conduce to remarkable
yield with the minimum of effort, after clearing is accom-
plished. Such land as this is pre-empted at about one
dollar per acre, and the moment the settler commences
to improve it the value increases ten- or twenty fold.
The pre-emptor who had raised potatoes here had made
sufficient from his first year's crop to defray his initial
outlay six times over! And that from less than one-
thirtieth of the area he had acquired !

The dirty yellow cloud disfiguring the sky on our de-
parture from Fort George loomed up larger and larger
as we advanced, until at last it spread over us like a huge
canopy, stifling the sunlight. It recalled nothing so
much as those peculiar smoke-fogs occasionally experi-
enced in the English metropolis. It was early in the
afternoon when we crept under this banner, and the
effect was curious. The sky could not be seen for the
smoke depending lazily about five hundred feet above us.
Yet on the ground level the air was of virgin purity and

i84 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

clearness, one being able to see horizontally through the
trees for a long distance. But the curious colour of the
cloud threw everything into strange relief : the verdure
of the trees stood out with an unnatural vividity. The
green did not appear to be that of ^'ature, but rather of
that tone which the inexperienced artist freely daubs
upon his landscapes. Similarly the bark of the trees
assumed an uncanny hue, while the lichens and mosses
infesting the trees' outer armour were as detailed as if
seen through a microscope. The topsy-turvy dom of
colouring was no doubt due to the absence of that toning
influence which sunlight and the overhead sky produce.

As we ventured farther and farther beneath the smoky
pall the effect became more and more weird, the topmost
branches of the trees being bathed in green as bright as
verdigris. No artist would credit that Nature could
possibly assume such tints and produce such clashing
contrasts in colour schemes. Even the grass attained
a brightness which was entirely foreign, and when now
and again the sunshine did contrive to struggle through
the canopy, lighting up the sward and forest, everything
seemed to have suddenly become deadened — the tones
relapsed as if by magic into the characteristic softness —
only to revert to an uncanny luminosity when the smoke
blind was once more pulled across the sun's face.

The effect on the waters of the Nechaco was even
more fantastic. Under normal conditions this river,
owing to its crystal clearness, has a hue of deep prussian
blue, but under the smoky overhead curtain the colour
was as if the artist in disgust had thrown all the blues
known to his profession into the mixing pot, and had
committed the resultant indescribable tint to his canvas.

As we pushed into the forest we saw on every side
smoking trails through the moss, where the fire had
eaten its insidious way amid the dry pile carpet, while
wicked tongues of flame betrayed the consumption of a
more than ordinary tender morsel. Now and again there

ON THE SKIRTS OF A BUSH FIRE 185

would be a sudden rush, accompanied by a vicious crack-
ing and snapping. Looking towards the spot, one would
see the flames jumping from the ground, from branch to
branch of a dry tree, setting it aglow from top to bottom
in a flash. The spruce tree is the food on which the
fire feasts. Its lower branches have the life crushed out
of them by the pressure of the thicket and hang dry and
dead, covered with a hair-like lichen which droops down
in thick tangled masses and is highly combustible. Then,
again, the wood of this tree is richly resinous. When
the fire reaches the foot of a spruce it embraces it in a
sheet of roaring flame.

We threaded our way between these aisles of fire for
some two hours. It was our intention to push on as
far as possible and camp about eight o'clock that night,
but our plans were sadly sent to the four winds. One
of the pack-horses took fright and bolted pell-mell towards
Fort George with Sam in hot pursuit. It was not long
before Sam came rumbling in with the runaway, but its
pack showed sad evidences of the wild canter among the
trees.

The incident delayed us considerably, and the close
proximity of good feeding on the banks of the Nechaco
for the horses decided us to camp there and then. We
made a clearing in the bush, ran up the tents, and then
went ofE for water. Anyone who has trudged for about a
third of a mile with a couple of pails for supplies of this
indispensable liquid can form some idea of what it means,
but when the operation is coupled with a clamber over
deadfall, a toil up a zigzagging steep bank a hundred
feet high, and finally a plough through a swamp, he will
realise that the chances of bringing back more than
about an eighth of the contents of the pails are slender.

At ten o'clock, although daylight had departed, we
could still read a newspaper with little trouble owing to
the brilliant diffused light from the fire. While we were
discussing the prospects of our march on the morrow a

i86 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

gaunt figure was observed striding through the gloom
towards the camp, leading his horse.

"Pitched camp, eh? "

"Yes. What are the chances of getting on? "

"Pretty bad. I've turned back. There are two
pack-trains held up with forty-four horses, and the
packers are cutting their way through the fallen timber.
You'll be up against it to-morrow."

That night was the most uncomfortable we experi-
enced on the trail. The heat was stifling, and the atmo-
sphere within the tents became unbearable. We pegged
up the sides so as to secure a current of such fresh air
as there was, but it was a slight and almost imperceptibly
beneficial measure. About three o'clock we heard the
welcome pitter-patter of falling rain, which had the effect
of tempering the atmosphere though it was not sufficient
for quenching the flames.

The next morning we pushed ahead. We were still
hugging the south bank of the Nechaco Eiver, which
follows a meandering course through this valley named
after the waterway, the water rolling lazily along, with
a sharp burst here and there as it tumbles down a sharp
decline in the form of a rapid.

Presently we emerged from a thicket and came upon
the full brunt of the effects of the fire. The pack-trains
held up the previous day had forced their way through
successfully, but the fall of timber during the night had
obliterated their clearing, while the trail itself was wiped
out of existence. The ground was smoking furiously, and
the dead trees were glowing red embers. Kiding now
was quite out of the question. There was nothing for it
but to walk with the horse's rein over shoulder. But
one's feet sank into about six inches of hot ash, and they
became uncomfortably hot in a few minutes. Axes were
necessary to slash a way through the debris, with wind-
ings in and out to avoid an unusually stubborn obstacle
in the form of a fallen giant of the forest. It took us

ON THE SKIRTS OF A BUSH FIRE 187

nearly an hour to make the first mile, and progress was
precarious in the extreme. The hot ashes were a source
of considerable danger to the horses, which became ex-
tremely restive, and we kept a sharp eye on our own boots
in case the soles gave signs of parting from the uppers
through the stitches becoming burned or charred.

Here and there, about a dozen yards from the trail, a
huge fire in full blast would be discerned, presenting a
solid phalanx of roaring, darting flame a hundred yards
or so in width, and lapping branches a hundred feet or
more above ground. When the flames suddenly spurted
out with a deafening crackling and spitting, the pack-
horses would stand stock still, fixing their eyes on the
burning mass as if hypnotised, and could only be driven
forward by the whip. But it was not the burning forest
we so much dreaded, for that was on our leeside, but
the wreckage the flames had left in their wake. The
roots of these trees spread along the surface, drawing
their nourishment from the top moss. As this, a kind
of peat, was being consumed, the roots would char slowly
until the tree, deprived of its foundation, would cant over,
and without the slightest warning come crashing to the
ground, unless its descent was arrested by an obstructing
tree, when it would be held at a dangerous angle until the
support succumbed to the insidious attack of the
smouldering fire about its own roots, or a furious wind
came along and swept the bending giant to the ground.
We had one or two narrow escapes from this danger.
The first premonition of a collapse would be a heavy
sigh. You looked in the direction whence the sound
proceeded, and saw a towering tree slightly heeling over.
The question was, in which direction would it fall?
You backed your horse well out of the way, for although
trying to beat a falling tree is exciting, the chances are
a hundred to one that your animal will not move quickly
enough. Then there would be heard a snap, snap, snap,
as if cords strained to the limit of their elasticity had

i88 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

suddenly given way, the tree would swing over with
rapidly gathering speed, its branches crashing through
those of its comrades, and possibly giving other decrepit
trunks the slight push necessary to send them reeling,
and then would come the final concussion and roar as the
ground was struck with such force as to make it tremble.
For about three hours we wended slowly through this
smouldering, burning, smoking labyrinth of collapsing
trees, all the time on tenterhooks. Then, emerging upon
a rolling flat covered with cotton wood trees, or what is
locally described as poplar, though it is quite distinct from
the English tree of this name, we were once more able
to stretch our lungs with pure invigorating air, and to
secure a welcome increase in the pack-train's speed,
which through the burning bush had been a mere crawl.
About four o'clock in the afternoon we struck the junction
of the Mud River with the Nechaco, and the flat, open
character of this stretch of land in the angle formed by
the rivers persuaded us to pitch camp, more especially
as directly ahead there was another stretch of blazing
timber.

CHAPTER XVI
The Nechaco Valley, the Land of Plenty

The Mud River Valley — The Nechaco Valley — Vicissitudes of Climate —
Disturbing a Hornet's Nest — The Land around Gluculz Lake —
Experiences of a Pioneer — Wild Hay (Jalore — The Yukon Telegraph.

Though the Mud or Chilako River is a sluggish water-
way, it drains a huge tract of country. It rises in Lake
Totuk, a small sheet of water on the eastern slope of the
ridge which encloses the extensive Ootsa Lake district,
the watershed of the Nechaco. The Mud River then runs
slightly south-east for a considerable distance, its volume
being reinforced by the surplus waters of Naltesby Lake
and several creeks. Then it describes a sharp turn and
takes a northerly course, following a sinuous way until
it meets the Nechaco.

The plateau it drains has an altitude of about 2,000 ft. ,
and has compelled the particular attention of the pre-
emptor. If the luxuriance of the wild vegetation offers
any criterion, then farming in this territory presents in-
calculably attractive possibilities. The natural grasses
grow to a tropical height and density. Sugar-cane grass
7 ft. high, red top at 6 ft., brome grass 5^ ft.,
and wild timothy topping 5 ft., were quite common.
The vetches also are prolific, being found in such
dense masses as greatly to impede ready progress.
The growth is strangely diversified. There are some
first-class stretches of huge marketable timber; other
land is covered with poplar and light scrub , which can be
cleared easily; while the low-lying expanses are little
prairies, on which the timber has been burned off, and
are now covered with dense, dank wild hay averaging in

i8g

190 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

yield between two and four tons per acre. Some of these
lesser bush-infested stretches are of considerable area;
two new-comers whom we met had staked some 3,000
acres of excellent meadowland, about seven miles above
the point where we camped.

It is computed that the cream of this valley, suited
to agriculture, aggregates about 36,000 acres, of which
15,358 acres have been surveyed by the Government and
are reserved for pre-emption at 4s. an acre. Whether
fruit culture beyond bush and ground fruits will be
possible, only experience can tell, but it is anticipated
that tree fruits should be successful up to about 3,000 ft.
altitude line. Wild bush-fruits flourished in profusion,
and this fact lends colour to the belief that apples, pears,
plums, cherries, prunes, and so forth should do equally
well on the bench-lands.

The Nechaco Valley proper is in reality an old lake-
bed. The soil is a thick deposit of silt, in some places
running to 40 ft. in depth, with a clay subsoil. The
silt is freely impregnated with thoroughly decomposed
vegetable substance. The rainfall is just sufficient to
stimulate growth to perfection, the temperature is
equable, and the climate is about the same as that pre-
vailing in Central Europe, which is only natural, seeing
that the latitude is about the same as that of the south
of England.

After leaving the Mud Kiver, we found the land
reverting to its gravelly nature on the high ridges, and
more or less densely covered with the interminable jack-
pine. While the soil in these upper situations is of little
value from the farming point of view, yet, cleared of the
timber, it should make excellent grazing land. It can be
cleared expeditiously and cheaply by fire, and that the
grass will grow thickly when afforded the opportunity is
indicated very convincingly by the rich grasses found in
the open spaces, where the flames had already accom-
plished their clearing work.

THE NEGHAGO VALLEY 191

British Columbia, like the homeland, is able to point
to some strange vagaries in regard to weather; it can
provide a taste of the four seasons within the space of
twenty-four hours, as we found out to our cost. We had
been travelling all day Sunday enshrouded in a damp,
raw mist, reminiscent of Scotland, and when we reached
the Bednesti Meadows, about three o'clock in the after-
noon, we decided to call a halt. We pitched camp in a
torrential downpour, for a thunderstorm broke over us
as we entered the little flat. We toiled valiantly waist
high in the dense, reeking bush searching for tent poles
and firewood until the feet were immersed in water, which
filled our top-boots and saturated us to the skin. As we
partook of the belated midday meal with coat collars up-
turned and the rain pouring down pitilessly, we were an
abject-looking group ; but when the storm had expended
its fury we built up a huge fire, and standing first with
our backs to the blaze to dry one half of our clothes, and
then with our faces to dry the other half, we were able
to sit down to supper little the worse for our experience.
It is astonishing what the human constitution will
*^* tolerable, for not the slightest cold is ever contracted on
the trail by turning oneself into a clothes-horse before a
blazing fire, with clouds of steam rising from the soddened
attire drying on your frame.

The next morning we started off about half-past six.
The ground was white with frost, and a dismal damp veil
hung over everything. The air was of a rawness that
penetrated to the very marrow, and though we were
wrapped thickly in woollens, our teeth rattled in our
heads. We soon got a little excitement, which had the
effect of stirring up the horses, for the leader of the train
stumbled into a hornet's nest. The enraged yellow
jackets poured out to the fight in battalions, and in less
than half a minute there was a wild kicking and plunging
in all directions. Collision with a wasp's stronghold will
liven a pack-train up more effectively than anything.

192 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

The animals plunged, reared, and commenced bucking
with the greatest spirit, and, ignoring their loads, started
off on a spirited canter which quickened our circulations
splendidly.

About ten in the morning the mist lifted somewhat,
only to let down a cold penetrating rain, which persist-
ently drove into our faces. Miniature waterfalls were
coursing down everyone's neck, for the branches of the
tall scrub deposited their small pools of water inside the
collar of the slicker. After an hour's steady downpour
there was another change to heavy hail, which brought
about an almost complete closing of the eyes. This bom-
bardment continued for about three-quarters of an hour,
and then gave way to a lighter fusillade of sleet, ultimately
reverting to rain. The slickers only kept the upper half
of the body partially diy, and soon everyone slipped off
the saddle and endeavoured to restore some semblance
of life to numbed limbs by vigorous walking. Our
miseries were completed about two o'clock by a downfall
of snow — and this on the 22nd of August ! That sudden
preliminary taste of winter completed our discomfiture,
and reaching a small depression void of trees, so quak-
ing with the cold that we could not feel our limbs, we
decided to go no farther, especially as the weather was
beginning to affect the horses.

Fires were quickly kindled, and in their welcome blaze
we discussed steaming cups of tea and hot bacon and
beans as best we could in the teeth of the driving snow
and sleet, roasting and steaming like basted joints on
the one side and freezing on the other. Our bedding was
wet and cold, and the ground was very like a marsh, but
rolling ourselves up as best we could, that night we slept
the sleep of the tired and jaded travellers we were.

When we awoke the next morning the canvas tent
was frozen as solid as a deal board : the thermometer
showed six degrees of frost ! But the clerk of the weather
evidently felt for us ; considered that one day's experience

THE NECHACO VALLEY i93

of what British Columbia could offer in the way of climatic
variation was quite sufficient for tenderfeet from the East.
This morning the sun burst over us in brilliance from a
cloudless sky, though the air had a crisp touch that be-
hoved one to keep moving. In the distance, through
the trees, we could see a silvery sheet of water —
Gluculz Lake, the northern bank of which we were soon
skirting.

We had now reached an elevated plateau ; the country
was for the most part dull and uninteresting, as it de-
manded clearing, though round Gluculz Lake we saw
numerous traces of industry, in the form of cleared
stretches and shacks of aggressive newness. The timber
around this sheet of water was large and valuable , but only
what was required on the spot by the settler was being put
to advantage, the other being destroyed with the useless
scrub. On the higher levels the country was more open,
having been ravaged by the flames years back, and such
tracts would not be difficult to bring under the plough or
to utilise for grazing purposes — preferably the latter,
owing to their exposed positions.

Here and there could be seen evidences of upland re-
clamation in the form of cocks of wild hay. We rode
across one ranch — through missing the trail — where a fine
yield of natural growth was stacked. There appears to
be no need for the pioneer to have any anxiety as to
food for his stock during winter in view of these bounteous
wild supplies, effort being confined merely to the cutting
and gathering of the succulent, tall, well-developed
grasses. Taken on the whole, however, such patches
are few and far between, and these highlands, if exploited
at all, will be valuable commercially for little else than
ranching, though as such they will be of assistance to the
mixed farmer raising his miscellaneous vegetable and
cereal produce in the lowlands. The country is a series
of low ridges between the Eockies on the east and the
Cascades or coast range on the west, separated by broad

N

194 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

valleys. It is these vales which will prove the making of
the settlers, for below an altitude of about 3,000 ft. any
description of agricultural produce which can be raised in
Great Britain can be grown with thrice or five times the
yield per acre. The broad benches or terraces are adapted
from every point of view to the culture of fruit, having a
southern and westerly aspect, with excellent natural pro-
tection against the north and east.

About forty miles out from Fort George we met a
pioneer in the thick of his work of development, and as
his case is typical of what one has to face in the interior
of British Columbia, his experiences and results are worth
recounting. His was a stretch of rather thickly timbered
land, with trees of relatively small girth and height.
This settler had taken over half a section — 320 acres —
at 4s, per acre. The timber was useless, so what he did
not require for fencing he simply burned to get rid of
it. He had only succeeded in clearing a few acres,
which were ample for his necessities at this time, though
he was extending his stretch of arable land in anticipation
of a keener demand for produce arising from the coming
of tTie Grand Trunk Pacific construction armies. There
were one or two little flats on his land under wild hay,
and he had cropped 30 tons, which he could sell readily at
£10 per ton, if disposing of the whole in bulk. But he
refused to sell in this manner, preferring to peddle it
out in small doles to all and sundry who required fodder,
in this way making about 50 per cent, more per ton. He
had a field of oats, somewhat thin it is true, but first
year's sowing, and tolerably well filled in the ear
considering that he had sown the crop rather late.
The remainder of his ground was under mixed vege-
tables. His onions, potatoes, cabbages, lettuces, carrots,
and so forth were very finely matured and healthy, the
summer frosts having done no serious damage to his
crops.

This pioneer was finding a ready market for his pro-

THE NEGHACO VALLEY i95

duce among the camps engaged in the building of the
Government roads, in which work is now very active
in this district, a wagon road having been slotted from
Fort George to Stoney Creek. His spring onions readily
commanded 5d, per lb., with carrots at about the same
figure. He had built a roomy shack, in which he dwelt
with his wife and three children. His one complaint was
the expense of sawn lumber, which had to be hauled
from a long distance, the local supplies being of no value
for such purposes even if he had been possessed of facili-
ties to cut it up. The nearest town was Quesnel, 125
miles south, and there he had to journey periodically to re-
stock his commissariat with flour, sugar, tea and the
like. He had brought in some stock, and had also con-
trived to secure some agricultural implements. On a
little calculation he considered that it had cost him
i6400 to establish his position. The household expenses
of himself and family averaged about £160 per
annum, and he was easily making ends meet. The
day before our arrival, for instance, he had sold
a calf for £20.

In his expenditure of about £S per week the high cost
of provisions, of course, figured very prominently. His
land had cost him less than £100 all told, and with the
improvements he had effected its capital value at the time
of our visit was approximately £2,500, on a modest com-
putation. That this is no outside figure was proved by
the experience of another settler not far distant who had
acquired 160 acres at 4s. an acre, and who, almost before
he had commenced improvements, had sold out for
£1,000. In other words, he had netted a clear profit of
over £960 on capital outlay. Such is the way land has
jumped up in value in the Nechaco Valley. When eventu-
ally the railway traverses the territory the increase in
price will be still more marked. The settler first referred
to was not particularly disposed to sell. He was living
cheaply without drawing on his capital except for

196 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

improvements in the way of implements and stock, and
even in his own very limited market was getting a good
showing on the right side of his profit-and-loss account.
When the railway opens up the country, while his
produce will not command such high prices as prevail at
present, there will be a greater inducement to extend
development to supply the wider market that will be
accessible.

In the summer, when the land was apt to become
parched on the surface, this settler satisfied the thirst
of his crops from a creek winding through his land. Such
irrigations, though not imperative, owing to the latent
moisture in the soil, yet repay amply the labour expended,
and make an appreciable difference in the quality of
the crops.

We continued our way westwards, moving through a
gently broken country ripe for development, silently
calling the settler with its profusion of wild hay in the
dales, and growing tall grasses among the poplar scrub.
The Canadian says that where * ' four inches of grass will
grow, wheat will grow, and where wheat can be raised
any produce will thrive." In face of this enunciation the
Nechaco Valley, with its wild hay topping five feet,
should be a land of plenty.

We had gained the top of a hillock. Masses of
poplar, willow, and open patches surrounded us. But
there, in the middle distance, was a shimmering, irregular
blotch on the prevailing green. We hustled our horses
and in a few minutes were among the bushes fringing
Tsinkut Lake. But a more conspicuous feature com-
pelled our attention. Just above our heads trailed across
the azure of the sky a thin, dull-grey thread, festooning
regularly along the trail through the forest. We could
not suppress a strange thrill. We were shaking inani-
mate hands with civilisation stretching in an unbroken
line from Vancouver to the far north, threading dense
forests, jumping wild ravines, spanning roaring rivers.

THE NECHAGO VALLEY 197

climbing and dropping over lofty storm-, rain-, and snow-
swept mountains, until at last Dawson City is gained.
It is a slender link, bringing isolated, distant Klondike
into direct touch with the restless throbbing pulses of the
world as surely as London is connected with New York
— the Yukon telegraph.

CHAPTER XVII
The Domain of the Red Indian

Ifi Barge and his Abortive Enterprise — After Many Days — The Stoney
Creek Indians and their Ways — Telegraph Cabins — An Operator's
Experience as an Agriculturist — Profitable Crops — Tachick Lake —
Salmon Trout — A Yankee who Prefers British Columbia to Dakota
— " Game Preserving " — Vital Lefort — Fort Fraser.

That aerial spider's line recalled a romance of human
endeavour which was derailed from the path of progress.
When conceived it was a colossal enterprise, and had it
succeeded it would have furnished one of the most fascin-
ating chapters in the history of the telegraph.

A bright mind conceived the idea of linking New
York with London overland in the early 'sixties. The
promoters of the Atlantic Cable were grappling with the
difficulties attending that audacious undertaking, which
was regarded generally as impossible of successful
realisation. The overland telegraph line, however, was
considered as perfectly feasible, although it entailed
penetration of the wildest, most forbidding and most
inhospitable country on the surface of the globe. Still,
it was well supported commercially, and the task was put
in hand. Succinctly described, it involved the construc-
tion of a single wire from a junction with the telegraphic
network spreading over the United States, northwards
through New Caledonia — now known as New British
Columbia — and Alaska to a convenient point on Behring
Straits, connecting with a short length of submarine
cable spanning that narrow neck of water to gain the
Russian shore. The line was to run thence across hun-
dreds of miles of bleak tundra and the terrible steppes

ig8

THE DOMAIN OF THE RED INDIAN i99

of Siberia to the Ural Mountains, and after entering
Europe to join up with the general continental tele-
graphic system.

The progenitor of this tremendous task, Le Barge,
started out boldly with a small band of men in the
spring of 1867. They blazed their way through the bush
with a compass, lopping a path through the trees a few
feet in width, down the centre of which they set up the
line. They had run through lower British Columbia,
had crossed the Skeena Eiver, and were buried among
the dizzy snow-swept mountains from which that water-
way takes its name, enduring untold privations, breaking
down tremendous difficulties foot by foot, and at last
had reached Telegraph Creek, about 800 miles north of
Vancouver.

The small gang was busily at work. Round them were
stacked piles of wire and other bulky impedimenta neces-
sary to the task. Suddenly there flashed up the strand
the news that the Atlantic Cable had been laid, and was
working satisfactorily. The bridging of the Atlantic
sealed the doom of the overland wire. The men threw
down their tools there and then, saddled their pack-
horses, and, leaving everything just as it was, bade adieu
to the enterprise and retraced their footsteps to the south !
So ended abruptly one of the most daring undertakings
ever fostered by commerce, and just how much money
was lost over the undertaking only those immediately
concerned can relate. Had that line gone a few hundred
miles farther north before its progress was stopped, the
story of British Columbia might have been written differ-
ently, for it was plotted to pass right through the aurifer-
ous Klondike, and there is not the slightest doubt but
that the men engaged in construction would have struck
the yellow metal. As it was, the line was simply aban-
doned. The country traversed was quite untenanted, and
no one dreamed that it had before it a prosperous future.
The line draped through the bush mournfully until the

200 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

poles rotted and brought it to the ground. For thirty
years or so it lay forgotten by all but a few.

Then came the Klondike rush. The extreme isola-
tion of the gold country demanded some connection with
civilisation, and the Dominion Government determined to
chain it up by telegraph. An overland line was decided
upon, and the path was to follow that of the ill-starred
enterprise of '67. Bands of men were dispatched to
various points in the spring of 1900 to carry out con-
structional work simultaneously, and if they could find
traces still extant of the old trail, they were to follow
it. The swathe which Le Barge cut through the forest
was easily discovered, cleared and widened, and down the
centre a new wire was erected. Traces of the former
enterprise were found over the whole distance between
Vancouver and Telegraph Creek, the disbanded stores and
supplies at the latter point being found rusting in the
ditch. Many of the men who assisted in the building of
the second line obtained interesting mementoes of the
original project, which they showed me, while all along
the trail could be seen ends of wire projecting from the
ground, it having become buried under rotting vegeta-
tion. Here and there small coils were unearthed, and
to-day when the line men require some wire for staying
poles of the existent line, they pull up strands of the old
material.

We were now in the land of the Indian. The red
man of to-day is the most inoffensive specimen of
humanity breathing. That he has degenerated from the
types roaming these territories a century ago there is
not the slightest doubt. As a hunter he cannot be com-
pared with his prototypes ; as a fighter he has sunk to
insignificance ; as a member of the community he is most
law-abiding and peaceable. The war-paint, feathers,
scalps, and other fiendish decorations have disappeared
in favour of European habiliments. He still retains his
abilities for finding his way through impenetrable coun-

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THE DOMAIN OF THE RED INDIAN 201

try, is fleet of foot, possessed of great stamina, is a keen
hunter, but withal a lazy lout. If you want to see the
true Indian of history and romance you must go farther
north — to the wilder parts of the country where the white
man yet has to set his feet.

Tsinkut Lake is a picturesque sheet of water in the
midst of a wonderfully fertile country. On the farther
side we could see many a new gash in the mass of trees,
testifying to the recent arrival of a settler. Cultivation
here will not be a difficult matter, though clearing is
a stupendous task. This country should be avoided at
all costs by the English settler who is not possessed of an
indomitable spirit, is not prepared to toil from dawn
to dusk for a time, and would be oppressed by an extreme
of isolation. If he is half-hearted he will come a cropper,
develop into a "calamity howler " of the first water, give
up his holding and return, "knocking " the country right
and left. But "roughing it " brings its own reward ; the
persevering settler earns an ample return for the sweat
of his brow. I met more than one English settler in the
district who had made his way to this country with
infinite difficulty, had settled down to hard work, and
could point to a blossoming garden where a few months
previously towering trees and dank bush had held undis-
puted sway.

"How's the railway getting on? What's Fort George
like? When will the Grand Trunk Pacific be here?"
were questions rattled at us whenever we met a settler.
On the whole, there was no complaint about isolation.
The British Columbia Government, with its characteristic
go-ahead policy, was advancing in the van of the line,
cutting wide roads through the bush to afford access to
different points. We found this work in active progress,
and somehow there is a certain feeling of relief at the
sight of a wide regular cleavage through the forest which
has been cut by human hands. It dispels the impression
of inaccessibility and remoteness. The men on this work

202 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

receive a wage of 7s. 6d. per day, out of which, however,
they have to board themselves. During the year 1910,
apprehending a rush to the Nechaco Valley, the Govern-
ment started work early in the season, and spent £12,000
on new highways through this part of the bush alone.

The Indians have a large village at Stoney Creek.
We rode through a rolling expanse of poplar scrub, wild
weeds and grasses. Presently a rude fence stretching
through the wood betokened our entry to private property,
and we soon had a striking instance of the red man's
emulation of the white man's methods, for at the gate-
way a printed notice informed us that pack-trains would
be charged so much a head for their horses if they camped
within the "rancheree."

The mention of this word brings to mind a little dis-
play of social distinction even in the bush. The moneyed
agriculturist, boasting a town house in Vancouver, refers
to his up-country farm, or estate, as his "raunch." The
pre-emptor, when speaking of his quarter or half -section ,
uses the ordinary English pronunciation of "ranch." But
the Indian must use neither. There must be a broad
line of demarcation between white and red, impossible of
confusion through pronunciation, and consequently by
means of this afi&x the Indian's possession is termed a
"rancheree."

The Stoney Creek Indian reservation is a territory on
which the white man might cast envious eyes. It is one
of the finest stretches of agrarian land in the whole of
New British Columbia. The pre-emptor and native is
loud in his wailings against the Indians' good fortune, for
the greater part of the reservation is rolling and open
land, consisting, in fact, of respectably sized prairies
which could be brought under cultivation with the mini-
mum of trouble and expense. But the Indian is an in-
different agriculturist. Possibly here and there he has a
small potato patch, the tubers, after being planted in a
primitive manner, being left to their own devices until

THE DOMAIN OF THE RED INDIAN 203

the time to dig comes round. The oat- or wheatfield is the
same — patchy and thin — the kind of crop the English
farmer would plough in with disgust. The rest of the
land is used for grazing, and on this the cayouses are
turned loose to feed.

The pack-train, on its way round Tsinkut Lake,
divided ; we reached the village in advance and decided
to await the arrival of the main body. Killing time in
an Indian reservation is the most difficult operation ex-
tant. Tumble-down shacks from which exudes a noisome
aroma compel you to keep a safe distance ; the general
neglected appearance of the homes is depressing; the
slattern klootches would disgrace a city slum. The lean,
hungry huskies prowl and sneak around as if bent on
securing a bite of the fleshy parts of your anatomy at
the most opportune moment. Sloth is printed indelibly
on everything, and one feels somewhat inclined to give
the well-built red-man, lolling about in the shade smoking
his pipe, half-dazed with some brutal alcoholic brew
which he has concocted and imbibed freely, a good sound
kick for allowing the land about to run to seed, too in-
dolent even to scratch its surface. The klootches spend
their time gathering sugar plums — ottalahs or saskatoons
— a wild fruit which grows luxuriantly, and from which
they make an evil-looking preserve, in appearance some-
what of a cross between stick-jaw and boot black-
ing, persistently trying to foist it on white visitors !
The only sign of decency about the whole place
is the church, which gleams brightly in the sun-
light ; this the natives have to keep in apple-pie
order under threat of dire punishment from the priest.
He knows the Indians and their indolent ways, and when
the news reaches Stoney Creek that he is coming, the
whole colony is galvanised into unwonted activity. The
men set to work and toil hard, while the klootches
smarten themselves up for "his honour's" arrival. The
moment he has turned his back on the place they lapse

204 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

into their former semi-hibernating condition. The
Stoney Creek Indians are members of the extensive
Si wash tribe, but we learned afterwards that they were
the laziest set in the whole family. I quite believe it.

The main part of the pack-train encamped in the
reservation on the waters of Lake Noolki, nestling in
a wide basin of which the low Telegraph Eange forms
the southern rim. But we had scarcely pitched our
camp when up came the "chief." He demanded his rent
for grazing the pack-train in advance. This matter was
rather abruptly handled by one of the party who had
spent many years among these folk and knew their ways,

"Does Indian ever pay white man for camping on
white man's ground? "

"Indian no pay for feeding horses ! "

"Well, then, ' beat,' " waving his hand. "Indian no
get money here."

The chief immediately started off on some incoherent
rambling and muttering, but our spokesman cut him short
by telling him to go to blazes. Instead, the chief squatted
down before the fire and looked at us in stoical silence,
puffing vigorously at his pipe. We smoothed down his
feelings of ruffled dignity by inviting him to supper. No
further claims for rent were made, although our stay was
longer than anticipated, since during the night our pack-
horses chummed-up with the Indians' cayouses, and the
whole lot could not be found next day, for the reserva-
tion stretches over a pretty good expanse of territory.

Perched up on a small hill behind us was a little cabin.
This was the lonely residence of the telegraph men.
It was merely a log shack divided into a small kitchen,
living-room, and a box-like sleeping space, with the in-
strument standing on a table between the bunks, as these
men have to be on the alert day and night to answer the
call of the ghosts speaking to them from the great be-
yond. The sleeping quarters are reduced in dimensions
to make room for a small office where postal business is

THE DOMAIN OF THE RED INDIAN 205

transacted, for outside, displayed prominently, are the
magic initials "G.K." Letters are delivered and col-
lected about once in eighteen days, the postman having a
round of 250 miles or so.

The telegraph cabins are long distances apart ; that to
the south was at Bobtail, a matter of forty miles, while
the one in the opposite direction was at Fraser Lake,
about thirty-five miles distant. Two men are stationed
at each cabin — one as operator, the other as linesman,
the latter' s duty being to keep the wire on his section in
repair. The length of the section varies according to
the distance between cabins, but he is held responsible
for half the span between his and the next station on
either side — in this instance some twenty miles on the
south and about seventeen miles on the north. The re-
sult is that he is rarely at home, for the line is constantly
in need of an overhaul.

The operator, Mr. J. W. Millan, had spent some years
up in this country among the Siwashes, and was
thoroughly familiar with the agricultural possibilities of
the district, seeing that he had devoted his spare time and
income as operator (£15 per month with all found) in
purchasing available land in the locality, until now he
could point to a total possession of about 800 acres, pur-
chased on the average at about 4s. an acre. The land
he had taken over was thickly covered with tall poplar
and dense willow undergrowth. This had been cleared
first by driving a fire through the mass in the usual
manner, followed by stump removal. With poplar, if
the trees are not too large, this is an easy task, since the
roots are mostly surface, but the more matured trees have
a long tap-root which renders stump-pulling somewhat
more arduous.

"My great difficulty," he explained, "is getting in
machinery. The freightage is so high that a settler can-
not afford it. Anyone coming in here now must makp
ends meet until the arrival of the railway, within the next

206 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

two years. The thing is to raise just enough to keep one
rolling along comfortably for the time being.

"I have at the present moment ten acres under oats.
The yield per acre varies from thirty-five to sixty-five
bushels. Taking an average of fifty bushels per acre,
which is fair, this represents 500 bushels. I can get
3d. a pound for this grain on my ranch, and at 8s. 6d.
per bushel that represents a sum exceeding £200. Then
this year I have cropped five tons of hay per acre. This
is worth to-day £12 per ton, which, less £2 per ton for
labour in cutting and stacking, leaves me a net profit of
£10 per ton."

It will thus be seen that the pre-emptor can recoup
his initial outlay upon the land very easily. Lest £12
per ton for hay may be considered an absurd price, it
may be mentioned that during the winter of 1909-10 hay
at Hazelton was fetching £20 per ton, and Alaskan hay
was doled out in handfuls at lOd. per pound — over £93
per ton in round figures. Of course, such fancy prices
will obtain only until the completion of the railway.

There is another point in the settler's favour. If land
will give, under primitive farming conditions, fifty bushels
of oats per acre, it can be made to give much more when
it becomes possible to cultivate scientifically with the
aid of proper implements. Such land as Millan holds, so
he said, he would not sell for less than £7 to £8 per acre,
and when railway communication is established through
the district — and it will pass within easy distance of his
farm — his 800 acres, which have cost him less than £200
all told, will be worth, and will readily command, several
thousand pounds.

Other pioneers in this district are working diligently
to ascertain just what the land will do, so that at the
opportune moment they can launch out on an extensive
scale and specialise in that branch of agriculture which
will net the highest returns. All are experimenting, as
it were. One, a Chinaman, had a penchant for market

THE DOMAIN OF THE RED INDIAN 207

gardening, raising all kinds of vegetables. Johnny is the
most persevering farmer one can find or ever desire to
meet. He carries out his work in a methodical fashion,
and is shrewd in his operations. This particular Celestial
had raised celery, which to Stoney Creek was like
asparagus in the tenement district of a city. But no
pioneer we had met so far could tell us whether or not
celery could be raised. Johnny had observed this defici-
ency, and had laid his plans accordingly. We heard that
his bed of celery was a splendid sight, which he was
rightly regarding with great pride.

Another pioneer has seeded his holding to alfalfa,
which is a highly profitable crop. The district was
considered to be too far to the north to permit of its
remunerative culture. This man, however, threw
theories to the winds, and set out to determine the matter
for himself. His industry was most handsomely re-
warded, for he had cropped four times in the year. This
was a new development, which testified in a striking
manner to the amazing fertility of the soil and the con-
geniality of the climate, while it had sent the value of
that pioneer's land to high-water mark, it being easily
worth £20 per acre.

Across the lake could be seen a ranch in the initial
stages of development. The pre-emptor was an Austra-
lian who had spent his life in the grain-growing districts
of the Antipodes, but family reasons had compelled him
to exchange the back-blocks of Australia for the back-
woods of New British Columbia. He had established
himself firmly, having secured the loan of a home Millan
had built, but did not require, until he could erect his
own shack, this courtesy enabling him to devote his whole
attention to the cultivation of his land. We saw him
reaping his grain with a hand sickle. For the first year's
growth it was highly promising, being moderately thick
and fairly tall, and it had ripened excellently. In every
case we met of settling in this country there was a

203 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

healthy race between the pre-emptor and the railway
builders. The former wanted their possessions ship-
shape by the time the iron horse got within measurable
distance, for from that day their prosperity was assured.

We were by no means sorry to get away from the
unsalubrious environment of the Siwashes, though we
could not shed their company entirely, as we were travers-
ing the heart of their country. Four miles beyond
Stoney Creek we entered a smaller village, Laketown,
sloping down to the waters of Noolki Lake, which was
nothing else but a small pocket edition of the larger re-
servation upon which we had encamped. Here, however,
a white man had struck out a line of business for him-
self. He had established a store, which we visited for
the replenishment of supplies. The shack was crammed
from roof to floor with articles of every description, for
the man was driving a fur-bartering trade in opposition
to the Hudson's Bay Post, a few miles farther on, as
well as straight selling. There were about 300 Siwashes
among his customers. This trader was "making good"
to a pronounced extent. His store and cache were
packed, but he had to restock four times in the course of
a year. Five hundred pounds had been sent to the bank
as the result of a single month's trading, and the fort-
night before we arrived the turnover had been equal to
£300.

Leaving Laketown we missed the trail, owing to a
little accident which I need not pause to recount. Pre-
sently we struck an Indian trail, and were soon in a
maze of these inches-wide pathways, which cross and
recross in all directions. But keeping the sun steadily
on the same hand we plodded on deeper and deeper into
the forest, until Tachick Lake was gain**d, when we
turned sharply, and reached the north-western end. Here
we pitched camp near a pre-emption, the owners of which
were away, leaving the dog in charge, and he was mount-
ing faithful guard over the entrance.

THE DOMAIN OF THE RED INDIAN 209

While the pack-train was loading up for resumption
of the journey early the next morning, we spied a dug-out
spinning over the lake towards us, and the agitation of
the water showed that the oarsman was having some fine
sport. When he pulled in he held up his prize, and
yelled: "Say, fren's, what d'yar think o' this? Bully,
ain't it, eh?" displaying a fine, sleek, rainbow-coloured,
glittering mass of scales. A silver salmon trout he called
it, and it was a beauty, turning the scales at 3 lb. "I
come out ev'ry mornin' befar breakfast an' hook one of
these," he went on. ''Why, thar lake's full o' them.
Say, come an' have a throw? "

Lett grabbed up his line and a stick to form an im-
promptu rod, ours having been left behind on the Little
Smoky River. The dug-out was soon pulling towards the
centre of the lake with the troll out. Presently we saw
a vicious tug, and an instant later there was a bright
flash in the air as the fish made a leap of about ten feet.
The fighting and plunging went on for about ten minutes,
and then the dug-out came in with a sharp shoot with
another quivering specimen lying in the bottom. When
weighed it tipped the beam at 3 J lb., and they were two as
fine specimens of the trout family as one could desire to
land. Our American visitor said they were "fair devils "
when hooked, and would often jump clean over the canoe,
while their rushes made the pike's movements a mere
tortoise crawl in comparison. Lett confessed that his
catch had given him a lively five minutes, accustomed
though he was to all classes of fish found in Canadian
river waters.

Our affable American informed us that he had taken
over a section — a square mile — on the shore of this
lake, and that his son had bought a like area of land just
near us. "I came up hyar last year, and I war so impressed
with th' country that I'm goin' to make it my home. I
guess this is just about God's country right enough ! My
wheat farms are down in Dakota, but I'll clear out down

2IO THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

thar, because I can't tear myself away from this spot.
Is the land good? Well, I should smile! You would
not catch me clearing the forest if it warn't. How about
winter? Well, last winter I worked about in my shirt-
sleeves. It's not near so cold as it is down Dakota way ;
we didn't have two feet of snow.

"I'm not goin' to spend another winter in Dakota
yet awhile. You bet yar Hfe. I'm fixin' up a huntin'
camp up in th' hills for th' winter. Talk about sport !
Why, yar can get just so much as yar like. One day my
wife, son, a friend, and myself went down to Noolki Creek,
which runs into Noolki Lake, and landed 135 pounds
of trout in two hours. They war the primest fish yar
ever clapt eyes on. We used salmon eggs for bait;
they're bully for trout. What did we do with them?
We just cleaned them, opened them up like a kipper,
salted them down, and during the winter we had trout
just when we wanted it, and when they could not be
caught for love or money."

He also enlightened us as to the way they coped with
their heavy bags of geese, ducks, and other w^ildfowl
which teem in their thousands in the season on the waters
of Tachick, Noolki, and Tsinkut lakes, and are brought
down by the score. They are plucked and dressed ; then
boiled with spices until the flesh leaves the bones. The
latter are removed and the flesh, now a pulp, is allowed
to cool, the liquid solidifying into a jelly. Then the mass
is pressed into muslin bags, and in that condition the
food will keep for weeks in the cold weather, without the
slightest deterioration, and steaming broth or boiled wild-
fowl can be prepared at a minute's notice.

Diverging from the lake, we once more struck to the
higher country, passing through land of great promise
as pasturage for cattle, even if actual cultivation were
not practised. It is the diversity of the country, owing
to its configuration, which is such a predominant feature,
for there seems an equal opening for all phases of

THE DOMAIN OF THE RED INDIAN 211

agriculture, where even the fool at the game can hope to
realise some measure of profit and success. We emerged
from the denser scrub on to an undulating plateau, which
was tolerably open, having been ravaged evidently by
fire in days gone by; here the grazing was magnificent,
the land shelving gradually to the level of the Nechaco,
which was lolling sluggishy along, twisting and doubling
in the most fantastic manner.

It was, about noon on Sunday when we came to a
straight cut through the poplars, down which ran the
telegraph wire to the river's banks. The descent was
for more than a mile, and so easy as to be almost imper-
ceptible. At the bottom of the dip the trail gave a sharp
wind and w^e were on the river. At the sound of our horse's
hoofs a keen-eyed , taciturn , wrinkled little fellow emerged
from his shack, and in broken English inquired how many
horses were to cross. He was the operator of the ferry
across the Nechaco, and he led us to the strange craft
whereby the road is continued in a moving rectangle
across the river. This ferryman is one of the most re-
markable personalities in British Columbia — Vital Lefort
— and it was hard to believe, as he trudged determinedly
along and manipulated the ferry across the slowly moving
water, that he had long since passed the allotted span of
man's life.

There is no man in the fa^r western province of the
vast Dominion who is more the personification of history
than Vital Lefort. He came from Eastern Canada when
but a lad, and his life is one long unbroken chapter of
fascinating romance. What his baptismal name is, no
one knows, but the Indians, with their quaint aptitude,
called him le fort vital, meaning, "the strong life," and
this became twisted round into Vital Lefort. Many are
the endeavours that have been made to sound his depths,
but without avail, though his very, very few intimate
acquaintances, one of whom I met, related that occasion-
ally he becomes reminiscent. Vital Lefort was the first

212 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

man ever to penetrate the interior of British Columbia,
as a young man was in the van of Le Barge's construction
party when that ambitious project, the Overland Tele-
graph, was launched, blazed the trail as far north as Tele-
graph Creek, and was the last to leave when the material
was thrown into the ditch to rust. He was one of the
first, if not the first, to find gold in the country, and the
rush that ensued resulted in the creek where the strike
was made becoming known as Vital Creek. He has
passed the whole of his life in the wilds ; but talk he will
not. He is as silent as the sphinx. He dwells in his
shack, but a few feet square, on the southern bank of the
Nechaco ; he lives by the fare he collects from travellers
crossing the river. And he appears to be the embodiment
of content. Fortunes have slipped through his hands,
for one of his friends told me that when the gold rush
at Vital Creek was at its height, he simply squatted on
his claim and made no endeavours either to prove its
worth, or to sell to others, though others round him
cleaned up big "wads."

Through a wide V in the trees, caused by the river
channel, we espied the white walls of the Hudson's Bay
post, Fort Fraser, no longer surrounded by a stockade,
this evidence of a strenuous past having been sent to
oblivion. Soon we were treading its solid wooden hall,
where the traveller is warmly hailed, for a Hudson's Bay
post in the interior is a hostelry in the wilds, where one
and all are sure to receive a hearty welcome.

CHAPTER XVIII
Through the Endako Valley

The Coldest Point in the Nechaco Valley — The Lake Stuart Country — Fort
St. James — The Fraser Lake Region — Another Lidian Settlement —
A Rancher's Home — Education in the Bush — An Equine Nurse —
A Settler's " Lucky Strike " — The Indian Way of Bargaining— A
Vigorous Centenarian — A Lineman's Life — Looking for Trouble and
Finding it — Colliding with a Telegraph Post — Bums Lake and its
Cabin.

This old Hudson's Bay post stands at the eastern end of
Fraser Lake, named after the famous explorer, at an
elevation of about 2,250 ft. Locally it is regarded
as the coldest point in the Nechaco Valley, to which the
ridge it stands upon forms the northern boundary.
Certainly the air even in August was very keen. The
outflow from the lake, which is about fifteen miles long,
joins the river just below the fort. The Nechaco at this
point makes one of those sudden, big, sweeping bends for
which British Columbia rivers are famous, the source of
the waterway being on the slopes of the distant rugged
Cascades fringing the Pacific coast, and draining in all
an immense tract of country, of which about 640,000 acres
are arable.

The old trading post has weathered nearly a hundred
years, during which time it has changed its position from
one side of the lake to the other about three times. In
the courtyard stands the primitive wooden device which
still serves to press the furs into bales for shipment as
it did when the fort was first established. Forty miles
or so to the east is Lake Stuart, with another post. Fort
St. James, at its south-eastern corner; and the country
between the two trading centres and immediately around

213

214 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

Lake Stuart offers great attractions for agriculture. I
met one or two pioneers who had been cruising through
this territory, and who had made Fort Fraser on their
return journey to the south. Their reports were glowing,
and they were emphatic in the opinion that it is im-
possible to exaggerate the agrarian potentialities of the
Lake Stuart country.

The whole of this interior forms a huge plateau, with
but slight variations in altitude. Thus, Cheslatta Lake,
to the west, is at 2,900 ft., the land thence falling away
gently to Fraser Lake and dropping still more easily to
Stuart Lake, which lies at an altitude of 2,200 feet.
This latter country, extending from Fraser Lake to the
eastern side of Stuart Lake, is richly wooded, poplar
(cotton wood) predominating, but this growth is denser
than that which prevails in the Nechaco Valley, the large
open flats of which are so attractive to the settler. Still,
around Stuart Lake and Stuart Eiver, to the confluence
of the latter with the Upper Nechaco, there are nearly
350,000 acres of excellent farming land, the possibilities
of which, after clearing, are reflected by the varied and
prime produce which the industrious factor of Fort St.
James successfully raises year after year, comprising the
usual range of vegetables and bush fruits.

The whole of this country is within easy reach of
Fort George by the Nechaco and Stuart rivers, which
are navigable by shallow-draught steamers, and when the
railway is completed competitive transportation facilities
between the two points, and between them and others
beyond, will be available. The climate around Stuart
Lake is equable, the scanty rainfall being amply com-
pensated by some six feet of snow during the winter,
which melts slowiy and steadily under the influence of
the Chinook winds, thereby mellowing the ground. The
summer is magnificent, and the heat experienced is just
of that degree to ensure the rapid growth of the crops
and their maturing to perfection. Indeed, so far as we

THROUGH THE ENDAKO VALLEY 215

could ascertain from those who were familiar with the
Nechaco and Stuart agricultural districts respectively,
there was a sharp difference of opinion as to which was
the superior in regard to agrarian value. As a matter
of fact, there is little to choose between the two, but the
probability is that the former country will be developed
first, as the initial expense of labour for clearing, owing
to the general open state of the country, is lower.

The country immediately adjoining the Fraser Lake is
wildly beautiful, and here the town-site planner intends
to become unusually busy, it being generally considered
that Fraser Lake can be converted into a great pleasure
centre. Undoubtedly the elevated situation and bracing
air render it a spot of potent recuperative power. The
banks of the lake drop rather sharply into the water, and
the conditions lend themselves to the founding of little
sylvan colonies, with the streets rising in terraces, giving
uninterrupted, magnificent views of lake and woodland
scenery.

Within sight of the post, to the east, is another
Indian village, as sleepy-looking, neglected, and unkempt
as Stoney Creek, a section of which colony has estab-
hshed itself at this point. The natives had thrown their
primitive wooden traps across the waterway, just below
the outfall from the lake, since the salmon running up
the Fraser attempt to reach this sheet of water, which
is apparently a favourite spot for them to spawn. This
year, however, the Indians had been rewarded with but
indifferent success, the bumper har\'est being netted every
three years. Trapping is their livelihood, though one or
two of the more enlightened have adopted agriculture, in
a lackadaisical manner, as we could see from the ragged
patches of potatoes, turnips, and cabbages. The trading
post was typically English, for there was the kitchen
garden growing something of everything, from peas to
cabbages, in addition to a variety of flowers. Even in
the Dominion the Britisher cannot stifle his love of

2t6 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

blossoms and their fragrance. When one catches sight
of a vari-coloured border around a shack, nine times ont
of ten the owner may be set down as hailing from the
home country, and the guess will be found to be correct.

When we started off from Fraser Lake it was raining
hard. It was a cold downpour, too, w'hich numbed the
extremities. The opposite bank of the lake was wrapped
in an impenetrable wet cloud. For hour after hour we
climbed ridges, meandered through narrow gorges, floun-
dered in muskeg, and silently and slowly crawled through
dense poplar woods with the wild grasses and weeds top-
ping five or six feet. We had been going for about six
hours. Tired, hungry, and miserable, our pace had
dropped to about a mile an hour against a driving, relent-
less rain, slight shelter from which was a welcome relief
when we entered a small tract of that fine timber which
is one of the most valuable assets of British Columbia.
We were aroused rudely from our silent ruminations by
a cheery hail. Just in front of us was a tall, gaunt figure
wearing a long sou'wester, standing up under a tree to
secure a little shelter from the beating rain which just
then was coming down with trebled fury and volume.
We returned the greeting and hurried up, our spirits
raised by encountering a fellow-countryman in the bush.

"Well, what do you think of British Columbia
weather, eh? Bit of a terror, isn't it, to-day? Gad ! you
look pretty cold. Go in my shack down the trail and
get a warm up. My wife's at home, and she'll be jolly
pleased to see you."

He was just off into the bush, but suddenly changed
his mind and decided to accompany us to his woodland
domicile. "I'll bet you come from the same village as I,
eh? Well, how's London looking. It's a good many
years since I was there. Here's my hut — a typical
rancher's dwelling — something different from the semi-
detached I used to have out Streatham way."

A rancher's home is something like the flat humor-

THROUGH THE ENDAKO VALLEY ^17

ously described by Dan Leno. It measures about 14 ft.
by 20 ft. inside, is rectangular in shape, built up of
logs which have been barked, and connected at the
corners in dovetail or saddle joints, usually the latter, as
being easier and simpler. The ridge roof is set at a
sharp angle and shingled. Inside, level with the eaves
and ten or twelve feet above the floor, which is set about
two feet above the ground, is the wooden ceiling, the
space above being used as a loft. In one corner is the
bedroom, two steps away another corner serves as the
living space, the third corner forms the kitchen, scullery,
and so forth, while the space behind the door, opening
directly into the room, constitutes the hall. Such is a
typical rancher's home, serving the whole of his require-
ments until he has established his feet well on the ladder
of prosperity, when he sets out to build a permanent resi-
dence replete with all conveniences. But even a shack
like this runs into £30 or more, and takes three weeks'
steady, continuous toil to build. This pioneer had not
completed his home yet, for the interstices between the
horizontally laid logs had not been chinked with moss ;
but "the crevices ensure good ventilation," laughed the
owner, "though I'll have to set to work pretty soon to
make it snug for the winter."

This settler, his wife and little baby, had come up
from Quesnel the previous winter, travelling by sleigh a
matter of 140 miles. His holding was 160 acres, pre-
empted at 4s. per acre. Like all the other settlers I met,
he had come in on the "ground floor" in anticipation of
the railway's anival, for his future hung entirely on this
transportation link. It is impossible to realise the extent
to which these pioneers in the wilderness depend upon the
completion of the new iron road from Atlantic to Pacific ;
to them it is as the staff of life, for it demands consider-
able pluck to get into such a country in advance of the
bond of steel.

But this lonely house gave me a curious, intimate

2i8 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

glimpse of frontier life. The husband was a public school
boy, while the lady of the ranch had passed through a
similar curriculum. Considering that anything outside
the three E's is absolutely out of place in the bush, they
certainly seemed like a square peg trying to force its way
into a round hole, for the higher education they had re-
ceived was gone astray very sadly. It recalled a case I had
previously met, that of a youth who had gone through
Eton at much expense to his parents for one of the higher
services, and had developed into a cowboy. Human
nature certainly has some strange kinks. But the wife
was turning her knowledge to valuable account. An-
other rancher near by had three children. The nearest
school was over a hundred miles away, and they were
of too tender an age to be sent away on boarding terms.
This lady had come to the rescue, and was giving the
children of the wilderness the education which other-
wise they would have missed. They came thrice a week,
and when we reached the house the school, into which
the dining corner had been converted for the nonce, was
breaking up. The pupils' home was some four or five
miles distant through the bush. Their means of trans-
portation was a single horse. The three children clam-
bered on his back with the eldest girl in front holding
the reins, the youngest child behind her gripping her
waist, and the third youngster at the rear clinging tightly
to the one in front of her. The horse realised the re-
sponsibility of his position, for he walked along sedately
with the minimum of jolt, bearing those three mites home-
wards. He required no rein to guide him ; he knew the
way blindfolded, and the children were safer with him
than is a child with a nursemaid. Only once did he
prick up his ears, as the father rode up bound for Fort
Fraser to secure some requirements. The equine nurse
neighed as his colleague sped by, but without a pause
continued his homeward plod.

It was late in the afternoon, with the rain falling in

THROUGH THE ENDAKO VALLEY 219

torrents, when we skirted the extreme edge of Fraser
Lake and made another turn into the thick bush, leaving
the Indian village of Stella on one side to follow the
telegraph line through the thick grass-carpeted dell, until
w6 met the Endako River, which pours into Fraser Lake.
This waterway is entirely different from any other rivers
we had met. It was more like an attenuated pond, so
stagnant was the water. We were soaked to the skin,
cold, hungry, and miserable, and so pitched our camp on
its banks, in a small clearing in the bush. The ground
was so saturated as to be ooze-like, and on this we laid
our beds, there being a wicked squelch as we rolled into
our blankets.

It poured incessantly all night, and the next day
dawning with no sign of a lift-up in the weather, we re-
solved to stay where we were, and to make the most of
an unhappy plight. We built a huge fire and rigged up a
" fly " to secure some measure of protection from the ele-
ments. There we passed the day, steaming like basted
joints on one side, and with our clothes sticking like gum
on the other. The weather was more than depressing
— it was maddening. The dripping bush on all sides, a
violent shivering-fit if you moved beyond a certain dis-
tance from the fire, a water-logged tent and reeking bed-
ding were our lot.

The pioneer settler in such a country as this never
knows when he is going to make a "lucky strike." One
hardy old farmer took over 640 acres at the northern
end of Fraser Lake at 4s. an acre — an outlay of £128
all told. It was a good farming stretch, and he set to
work in grim earnest. Then a town-planner came along
and concluded that this particular site was far more
suitable to the raising of houses, shops, and commercial
establishments than mere potatoes, oats, and hay. Would
the owner sell? Certainly, if the price were sufficiently
enticing ! The upshot was that the farmer packed up his
traps, his pockets bulging with some £4,500, for the

220 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

town-planner had bought him out, lock, stock and barrel,
at 35 dollars an acre, and he settled down again a little
distance beyond on another square mile. He there put
up imposing, spacious outbuildings for the housing of
his stock and harvested crops, had a comfortable home,
and could point to as fine a stretch of healthy potatoes
and other vegetables as you could aspire to possess. The
new location from his farming point of view was quite
equal to that which the town-planner had coveted, and
he was so many hundred pounds to the good over the
transaction ! And this was not an isolated case by any
means ; but it suffices to show that it is the man who
gets in on the " ground floor " who scores.

Despite the inclemency of the elements, we had visitors.
Three Indians came up with a string of salmon trout.
They demanded a dollar: to be rid of their insistence
we offered a quarter — a shilling. They would not accept,
but laid the fish down on the ground and walked a short
distance away. The first inclination was to kick the
whole lot into the water, but such is the Indian's method
of trading. He leaves the goods with you, although he
will not accept your price, and then hangs about like a
more dampening blanket than the weather. At last, to
get them out of sight, we sprang another shilling, which
they grabbed , and melted from view in double quick time
amid the bush, fearing we might change our mind.

A little later we heard a faint splash in the water and
another vendor was visiting us. He had a medley of
provisions, and was as venerable a patriarch as ever
walked the earth. The natives said he was over a
hundred years old. He certainly looked it, for he was
the most decrepit lump of humanity that ever I have
seen. He was bent with age, his feet were bare, his
nether garments sadly the worse for wear, and his ancient
coat and shirt were soddened with rain.

Despite our repulsion we could not but feel com-
miseration. Even Sam, who cherished a keen hatred

THROUGH THE ENDAKO VALLEY 221

against Siwashes and anything pertaining thereto, re-
lented. "Come up to the fire, you old son of Noah," he
yelled. A second invitation was not required. The old
figure hurried up, and squatting on his haunches within
a few inches of the blazing mass, rubbed his hands in
high satisfaction. We tried to draw him into conversa-
tion ; it was useless, for he iailed to understand us. But
his gnarled and knotted frame, in which the vital spark
was not extinguished yet by any means, his wrinkled
face and wiry hands, his mouth in which the whole set
of teeth was still intact though worn down to the level of
the gums, presented a study which it would be hard in-
deed to equal. He was one of the last warriors of a decay-
ing race — tossed on one side by the younger generation
as useless. His faculties were wonderfully acute. His
hearing was fairly good, his eyesight, so far as we could
judge, was keen, and when he departed after a square
meal to which we invited him, we saw that age had not
dimmed his prowess with the paddle, for he sent the
old dug-out, as decrepit as himself, speeding swiftly and
silently along the sluggish waterway. He represented
in the flesh one of the types portrayed so strikingly by
Fenimore Cooper, a type which is vanishing rapidly
from the Great North- West. A vivid contrast to the
backboneless Siwashes who hung on our camps.

In the evening the lineman of the telegraph, living
barely a quarter of a mile away, strode up to the camp.
He had about thirty miles of line to patrol, and had been
pretty busy, for interruptions in communication had been
occurring with startling frequency. His sole occupation
was "looking for trouble," as these breakdowns in the
telegraphic conversation are called. Bush fires had been
giving him a hustling time, for they brought down post
after post, and occasionally snapped the vrire.

"Any excitement?" he repeated to a query. "Well,
sometimes. But the breaks are generally caused by wind
or fire ; in winter we have but little trouble. I was out

222 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

once, and had come across a post in two. I pitched the
reins of my horse over a snag and set to work. I heard
my cayouse kicking and pawing the ground, but took
no notice as it was getting dark. I had just got the post
and wire up when I looked round, and there, barely
twenty feet away, was a big bear watching my operations
very intently. I stopped, and he advanced. Did I
wait? Not much, for my gun was in the saddle. I gave
a hop, skip and a jump, was on my horse's back in a
flash, whisked the reins off the snag, turned her head,
and was soon pelting away like the very wind, pulling out
my gun as I sped along. The old girl came after me like
winking. It was a healthy race, but the horse won, for
when I at last pulled rein, judging I had got a safe
distance to have a straight shot, she was nowhere to be
seen.

"Yes, looking for trouble is pretty exasperating some-
times. Last week I had been ten miles over my line
towards Fraser Lake and had put a breakdown right. I
got home late that night to find another interruption. I
called up Fraser Lake. That was all right. It was on
the fifteen-mile stretch north that the break had hap-
pened. I was up in the early morning and off full pelt.
A post had come down and there was a dead earth. I
put that right and returned home. As I rode up, dog-
tired, my wife told me that there was another break. I
called up Fraser Lake, and got through, then tried the
other side, and found Burns Lake on the north did not
answer. I was off again at dawn, taking a blanket and
a pocket full of provisions with me. I found a bush fire
had been raging, and about a score of trees had dropped
across the wire, bringing down two or three hundred feet
of it, not far beyond where I was working the previous
day. I had to lop everything away myself, and night was
on me before I had finished getting some of the debris
clear. I then made my way to the half-way hut provided
for us between stations, made a fire, had a bit to eat, and

THROUGH THE ENUAKO VALLEY 223

turned in for a sleep. I had not been resting long before
my mate coming south from the next station clattered in.
He was looking for the same break and had found his
line all clear, so guessed I was in trouble. He gave me
a hand the next day; we got along fine, and by working
till dark got the line straight again. We said good-bye,
and I steered for home through the darkness. Hang me
if, when I got home, I didn't find another break had
occurred on the Fraser Lake section. I had to be off
again at dawn looking for this further trouble. A wind-
fall had broken the line clean in two between posts. I
had a pretty rough fortnight over those ' breaks,' I can
assure you. This line has to carry such a lot of traffic,
for although there is not much business doing with the
Klondike these times, it is the sole means of ready com-
munication between Prince Eupert and the outside world,
and the amount of traffic over the line is sometimes
tremendous."

It must be confessed that the Yukon telegraph is the
most crazily built line I have ever seen. How it keeps
intact so well is a marvel. The posts for the most part
are tottering, for their life is short under the best condi-
tions, and when wind and falling trees give them continu-
ous jolts they are done for. Out of curiosity I asked one
of the linemen whether the posts kept the line up, or if
it was the wire that kept up the posts, " Hang me if I
know," he replied ; "but I guess it's a bit of both."

Besides carrying the Klondike and Prince Eupert
messages, the line effects a junction at Dawson City
with the United States telegraph system of Alaska, the
outermost finger of which rests on the Behring Straits
at Nome. One can therefore conceive the immense
damming of messages that ensues sometimes when a
breakdown occurs.

We had an exciting sixty seconds the next day as we
were rounding a huge bank of shale that had tumbled
from a cliff overhanging us. The pathway was littered

224 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

with broken rock, over which we had to crawl gingerly.
Animated by some obscure reason, Sam's horse reared
and was about to give a healthy buck, when it changed its
mind and rubbed shoulders with a telegraph post, which
snapped off like a carrot.

"Look alive," we called out, as we saw the post
coming over. The packer dug heels into his horse and
slashed it over the head with his lariat. It gave a mighty
spring just as the post crashed down, missing Sam by
inches only. Had it hit him he would have been laid
out as surely as an ox under a pole-axe. We thought the
wire had snapped, but it had stood the srtrain, so we
managed with great difficulty to set the post vertical once
more ; the thread of conversation between London and
Dawson City was maintained intact.

We skirted the north-eastern bank of Burns Lake,
keeping to the higher ground. It is evident that Burns
Lake has undergone considerable shrinkage, for a level
bench reaches from the water's edge to a considerable
distance ; it is lightly covered with poplar scrub, and with
wild hay in profusion, some of which the Indians had cut
and roughly stacked. Here and there were large patches
of soft ground of a semi-swampy nature, but which could
be readily drained. The soil was a deep, rich black
colour, and could easily be detected as an alluvial deposit
with a clay subsoil.

The possibilities of the land in these depressions
around the lake were shown us when we arrived at the
telegraph operator's cabin, for he had cultivated a small
garden with potatoes, lettuces, cabbages and so forth,
growing luxuriantly in a soil which crumbled in the
fingers, and into which one could plunge the arm without
meeting soUdity. The Uneman had taken over a pre-
emption in the hollow where we pitched our camp, and
had turned a little creek on to his land so as to give it a
thorough soaking before attempting to break it. The
presence of this creek was an insurance of this pre-

THROUGH THE ENDAKO VALLEY 225

emptor's crop, as it took but a minute or two to swing
the water from its normal channel and to send it sprawl-
ing over the land.

Burns Lake cabin is probably the loneliest station
south of the Skeena River. It is right off the beaten
track, about sixty miles north of Fort Fraser, and about
the same distance south of South Bulkley. The mailman
coming from the south turns back at Fort Fraser, and his
colleague from the north retraces his footsteps when he
gains South Bulkley. Any mail destined for the operators
at Burns Lake has to make its way wearily across country
from Bella Coola on the coast, there being a delivery and
collection about once a month. In the winter, when
movement is confined to dog trains and is uncertain,
only first-class mail is carried, such as letters, all book
packages and newspapers being left at the Bella Coola
post office until the weather breaks.

CHAPTER XIX
A Fertile Corner of the Province

The Lake Franjois Region— The South Babine Country— The Siwash
Indians and the Telegraph— The Bulkley Valley— Wild Fruits-
Minerals — " Dolly's " Pranks — A " Growing " Country.

Burns Lake, and the smaller sheet of water a little
farther north, Decker Lake, with which it is connected,
are in the centre of a large district offering great promise
for farming, and more especially, perhaps, seeing that the
prevailing altitude is 2,700 feet or thereabouts, for the
raising of stock. To the west and south-west extends the
great plateau around Lakes Fran9ois, Ootsa, and Ches-
latta. The wild growth throughout this district is of
magnificent luxuriance. The Ootsa and Cheslatta
country is somewhat difficult of access from this point,
involving as it does a long overland journey ; but it can
be entered with greater facility from the coast. The
probability is that a spur will be driven from the main
line of the Grand Trunk Pacific traversing the whole
of this fertile expanse, possibly extending to tide-
water at Bella Coola, whence there is a regular
steamship service to Vancouver, 415 miles distant.
Until some such transportation facilities are provided,
the Ootsa Lake country will remain practically dormant,
owing to the difficulty of getting produce to available
markets.

On the other hand, Francois Lake, being more con-
venient to the railway, will open up very rapidly. Last
year some twenty-five settlers made their way in, and
wTien we arrived, were engaged actively in clearing opera-
tions. It is estimated that there are something like

226

A FERTILE CORNER 227

130,000 acres of excellent farming land around this narrow
sheet of water, which is roughly sixty miles in length by
about a mile wide. The country was described to us by
one or two of the settlers as being tolerably level, with
extensive flats here and there, and though it was early
to obtain conclusive evidence concerning the produc-
tivity of the soil from actual results, they stated that
indications more than fulfilled anticipations, the soil being
of the same rich character as is found in all the extensive
depressions fringing the lakes and rivers of New British
Columbia. One and all pointed out that under present
conditions no one should attempt to settle here unless
possessed of a little capital to defray the cost of entering
the country, which is, at the moment, rather consider-
able ; but this situation is being eased every month as the
railway forces its path farther south.

On the northern side runs another splendid arable belt
skirting the southern end of Babine Lake, and extending
more or less continuously to Stuart Lake. In the South
Babine country it is estimated that there are about
200,000 acres of excellent agricultural land, together with
nearly 20,000 acres which have been reserved for pre-
emptors. This country, again, is somewhat difficult and
expensive to enter, but before long it will be linked to
the trunk road, especially as the Stuart Lake and Eiver
districts advance under settlement.

An indication of what the settler must expect who
ventures into this country in anticipation of the railway
was afforded by the operator. A farmer on Fran9ois Lake
found it necessary to dispatch a telegram, which entailed
a ride of some eighty miles. That wire communication
involved the best part of a week's absence from home,
with a blanket and a few pounds of the barest provisions
thrown upon his horse. He spent the night in the cabin,
in expectation of a reply which never came, so that the
journey to all intents and purposes was wasted. Kiding
eighty miles to secure urgent communication with the

228 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

outside world is a phase of frontier existence which
throws its isolation into glaring relief.

Another sidelight on life and movement in a new
country was provided by an occasional meeting with a
"hiker," bound from Hazelton to Fort George or Quesnel,
or vice versa. It is a tramp of 320 or 430 miles, as the
case may be. These sturdy pedestrians, however, make
light of the journey, completing the distance easily in
from eleven to fifteen days— about half the time it takes
a pack-train to cover the same mileage. They strap a
solitary blanket to the back, carry a few dollars in the
pocket, and replenish supplies of provisions just where
they can at stores by the wayside, and just sufficient in
quantity to tide them over the intervening distances.
They rely on making thirty miles a day, irrespectively of
sunshine or rain, and more often than not pike along
soaked to the skin. They endeavour to gain a telegraph
station at night, but in cases where the stations are far
apart, they spend the night in the half-way cabin pro-
vided for the linemen.

The presence of such overwhelming numbers of
Siwashes led me to inquire if the red men ever interfered
with the wire, either in appropriating lengths of the
thread for personal purposes or out of devilment.

"No fear," returned the operator. "In the first place
they know better; secondly, they realise its significance,
though it is useless to them. Indeed, many of them will
go out of their way, when they discover a break, to round
up the lineman and guide him to the seat of the trouble,
for which they receive a little recompense in some form
or other. The rendering of such assistance they regard
as the proudest moments in their lives, for they cherish
the idea that on such occasions they are working for that
almighty force- -the Government. Sometimes we have
to enlist their assistance, and they fall to with alacrity
froni the same motives. Moreover, one or two of the
Siwashes, when they find a post down, instead of

A FERTILE CORNER 229

reporting will re-erect it on their own initiative, feeling
thereby that they have done something remarkable.

"But in their eagerness to be of assistance they have
sometimes overstepped the mark through ignorance. One
day we had a break in the wire south of here. The line-
man started off, but reached the half-way cabin without
observing any signs of the wire being down, or any col-
lapse of poles. At the half-way house he met his col-
league from the next station south. They tested up.
The half to Fraser Lake was all right ; the interruption
was somewhere between the half-way house and Burns
Lake. That was fully evident. Cursing for all he was
w^orth, my comrade retraced his footsteps looking for
short circuits, since wire and poles were intact. He had
covered a good many miles without success when he came
to a dead stop ; the cause of the trouble was before him
and he had passed it on his outward search. He gave
vent to a good healthy ebullition of his mind. "What had
happened? Oh, the pole had evidently become partly
uprooted under wind and weight of the wire, toppled
over, and its condition had been observed by a Siwash.
The Indian in his zeal to help us had picked up a length
of the discarded wire of the '67 line lying on the ground,
had looped it round the top of the fallen pole, had pulled
the latter upright and fixed it so by converting his piece
of wire into a stay. The result was a dead earth. The
dots and dashes that were being pumped into that line
were simply running down to the ground through this
leak as the guy wire was doubled round our wire. When
the lineman came in he was as mad as a hatter, and ex-
pressed his firm resolve to go out to look straightaway
for that energetic Siwash with his gun."

The going became pretty hard as we approached the
Bulkley summit. The country was extremely broken,
and at places had been badly burnt over by recent furious
bush fires, littering the trail with deadfall, with here and
there teasing stretches of muskeg. Other spots were

230 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

badly obstructed by rocks. It was a succession of heavy
climbs, the banks over which the trail made its way being
steep and slippery from rain, and composed of crum-
bling shale. After five or six hours' wrestle with this
severely undulating, winding, and arduous path we
entered a magnificent plateau almost as level as a billiard-
table and stretching for miles on either side to a tree-
covered ridge. It recalled nothing so much as parts of
the weald of Kent, for narrow streams fringed with
willows, little more than ditches in point of width,
though well charged with water, wound tortuously
through the meadow land. The altitude and somewhat
exposed nature of this prairie, no doubt rendering it very
inhospitable if not absolutely untenantable in winter, will
operate against its settlement, but as a pasturage for
cattle it was one of the finest stretches we had yet met,
and the horses keenly enjoyed being turned loose on this
vast tract for the night. The sole sign of habitation was
a Siwash shack perched on the distant hillside, but evi-
dently uninhabited at that moment, for we saw nothing
of the owner. We kept to the western ridge, with its
shield of young poplars in which wild grasses flourished
to a man's height, proving that the area of meadowland
could be extended easily and to decided profit by clear-
ing. It was certainly a lonely comer of the province, a
feature that was accentuated by the howl of the coyotes
which made night hideous, while in the morning there
was heard the curioua and plaintive wail of the loon. At
the broadest point this vale is fully five or six miles wide,
and about twenty miles in length ; judging from its
character it had been timbered formerly, but the
wood had fallen a victim to the ravages of fire, and so
completely that the scrub had never been able to take
root again.

We had touched the fringe of the Bulkley Valley,
which has long been heralded as the Paradise of British
Columbia — and certainly the description is not inappro-

A FERTILE CORNER 231

priate, for after leaving this broad, long flat we traversed
a succession of others. We could not help observing one
very prominent feature. The Indian, who saw his land
slipping more and more from his grasp, had made a last
bold bid to retain some semblance of proprietorship by
occupying all the best, most level and most open
stretches. Whether his squatting will hold good or other-
wise remains to be seen , inasmuch as the country has not
yet been surveyed. Here and there a Siwash is indus-
trious, aal is evident from the manner in which he has
fenced his holding and set it out jnore or less methodi-
cally, though it must be confessed that the red man's idea
of symmetry is somewhat bizarre.

The most astonishing feature of the country we were
threading now was the prolific yield of wild fruits. The
bushes of gooseberries, both black and red, were laden
to breaking point ; the fruits, running to the size of a
small marble, were sweet and juicy. They were dead
ripe, the slightest shake of the branch sending them
rattling in showers to the ground. Currants were just
as thick, while the raspberry canes were bent with the
weight of their produce, which for the most part was of
greater size than can be obtained under cultivation at
home. We rode for miles through this natural orchard,
the bushes being as thick as the willow scrub, which in-
deed they appeared to have displaced.

Some twenty miles due north of us, at the south-
eastern end of Babine Lake, great activity was being dis-
played in the search for minerals on the slopes of the
southern nose of the Babine range. One prospector had
located a rich find of galena, some specimen ore of which
we saw; so far as exploitation had been carried up to
that time, there was a commercially practicable yield of
gold per ton, while other minerals were present in large
quantities. Development was being pushed forward
energetically, the mine having been bonded for d£15,000.
The success of this "strike" had become noised abroad.

232 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

and occasionally we passed one or two prospectors toiling
along with their horses and packs, striking across country
to the new mining area.

During our toiling over the Bulkley divide we were
treated to another exasperating incident. In the pack-
train was a docile young mare which answered to the
name of "Dolly." She had hardly shaken down to
the rough tumble and steady pegging along demanded of
the pack-horse, though she gave every promise of develop-
ing into a first-class ship of the bush in time. Dolly
grew tired of marching along day after day in the same
place in the pack-train, so took up a position at the rear,
trotting along behind with her load like a dog. Now and
again she would stop for a browse until we were some
way ahead though still in sight, when in response to a
whistle from Sam she would canter up and repeat the
performance. But she did this once too often. We
passed her quietly chewing a dainty morsel under a tree
on the edge of the forest. An instant later she had dis-
appeared. Sam darted into the dense forest, whistling
and calling her by name, but there was no sign of the
little grey mare. With a sharp adjuration from Sam,
I was deputed to hustle the second half of the pack-train
along, the leading division under the other packer being
some way ahead. Lett lingered behind to give Sam
assistance.

The pack-train realised that its proper driver was not
in charge, and instantly commenced playing pranks, one
slipping into the bush on this side, another trotting like
mad ahead, while others wandered off to every point of
the compass. Finally, recognising that even a tyro pack-
driver has his limits of endurance, and can cut up rough
■\ivhen provoked, they shook down to their task, and made
off at an inspiriting trot to catch up the first division.
For four solid hours I was steering that troublesome part
of the ship, and gathered a faint idea of what a packer has
to tolerate from his charges, and why it is that "to swear

I

i

A FERTILE CORNER 233

like a packer " has come to denote the extreme perfection
of invective.

At last we swung down from the high ridge into a
broad valley, to be greeted with the welcome, "Well,
boys, I guess now you're here you're going to stop
here."

It was one of the twain who pass their lives in the
telegraph cabin, for we had struck the South Bulkley
station. "While we were debating what we should do,
up galloped Lett with the news that no signs of Dolly
had been seen, that Sam was out in the woods scouring
over a wide circle looking for her tracks, and that he
would not come on till he had found her, even if he stayed
there all night. It was obvious that we could not get
too far ahead, for it was a moot point when Sam would
reappear, so we splashed across the Bulkley River, then
low and easily fordable, and on a flat on the western bank
pitched our camp.

The two hail-fellows-well-met in charge of the tele-
graph cabin gave valuable assistance and information,
for one, Mr. William Clark, is an encyclopaedia on the
northern part of New British Columbia. We were not
long in making a hearty supper disappear. Just as we
were stretching our limbs and enjoying an agreeable
tete-a-tete with "my Lady Nicotine" there was a shout,
a savage whoop, and Dolly tore through the scrub
giving vent to a loud neigh, with Sam galloping
hard on her heels. His little grey mare had given
him a fine hunt in the bush. He had scoured over a
wide circle, but without any success. Then as he
paused for a breather on a clearing he spotted the
hoofs of a horse in the air. Spurring his horse towards
the point, he found Dolly enjoying a good roll in the
tall wild hay.

"I giv' her 'roll,'" vehemently exclaimed Sam;
"she never moved sar lively as when I gave her a dose
o' thar end of my lariat. Th' minx had me tearin'

234 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

about in th' timber as black as night for five solid hours.
Gee ! hand over the tea, Joe; I'm as dry as a bottle with
the cork out."

In the evening Clark and his companion spent an
hour or two with us and the time flew rapidly.

"Grow?" said he. "Why, anything will grow here.
You cannot help it. You cannot stop the seeds after
they've once started, even if you wished to do so. There's
only one difficulty. That's labour. It's a perfect fright.
Why, I had to pay a man £3 a day for himself and team,
only a week or two ago, to get my crops in, as I was out
on the line and couldn't do it myself. But there, that
wasn't so bad as one experience I had in the Klondike.
There the son of a gun refused to work for half a day
for less than 50 dollars (£10). But if you want to see
how things will grow out here, you make a stop-over
when you hit the Bulkley Kiver again to-morrow and
have a good look over Mclnnes' ranch. That'll open
your eyes."

When we pulled out in the early morning Clark and
his companion said they would follow us up. There was
trouble on the line for which they had been searching for
days past without success. "So long, boys," they said
as we departed. "We'll see you before nightfall! I
guess we'll catch you up, as you've got a pretty tight
twenty-five miles in front of you."

He was right about the trail. It ran the fifteen miles
along Moose Lake a pretty close second for arduousness
and difficulty. First we had to make a wide detour of
about two miles to avoid a stretch of muskeg which was
generally passable, but now was saturated hopelessly.
As it was, we struck its edge and had a lively time
•floundering in the morass. Then came a stiff climb of
about one in three up a mountain hump, which the trail
zig-zagged in the most astonishing manner, and even
then was so steep that we had to walk, or, rather, pull
ourselves up hand over hand. Muskeg, deadfall, slimy

A FERTILE CORNER 235

stretches of loose stones, bush, snags — all were encoun-
tered in turn and with aggravating frequency. But at
last we once more struck the Bulkley River, and an open
spot beneath the trees. We drew up — a most bedraggled
and limp assortment of man and beast.

CHAPTER XX
The Bulkley Valley: The Farmer's Treasureland

The Mclnnes Ranch— Timothy Six Feet in Length— Top Soil more than
Twenty-eight Feet Deep— A Wonderful Field of Oats— The Kitchen
Garden — A Bed of Purple-top Turnip — A Famous Potato — Straw-
berries — Live Stock — The Diamond Ranch — Leaving behind the
Lonely Trail — The Commissariat for Three Thousand Navvies —
Aldermere.

We had now reached the far-famed Bulkley Valley, about
the possibilities of which much has been whispered, but
of which very little has been seen, owing to its inaccessi-
bility. Clark and his chum had reached our camp, both
having come along slowly, looking for the trouble in the
wire, but without avail ; and being great friends with the
Mclnnes brothers, whose celebrated ranch was near by,
Clark offered to be our introducer.

The Mclnnes farm is the pioneer ranch in the South
Bulkley Valley. The owners, two brothers, known
popularly as "Long" and "Short," from their striking
differences in stature, hail from Scotland, and reached
this country via the Yukon Telegraph : in other words,
were associated with its construction, afterwards settling
down as lineman and operator in this neighbourhood.
They first acquired 160 acres, which they tilled and
tended in their spare time, but became so enamoured of
the future that lay before them in the agricultural field
that they relinquished the telegraph with its seventy-five
dollars a month, all found, to devote the whole of their
energies to exploiting the wealth of the land.

They have carried improvement to a remarkable point,
considering their isolated position, and the extreme dififi-

236

THE BULKLEY VALLEY 237

culty and expense that have to be encountered in bring-
ing equipment lioui the coast. The outbuildings are of
substantial and spacious construction, recalling those of
home. Their stock, which gazed upon us in wonder as
we approached, looked remarkably sleek, fat, and of fine
development, and, as we found afterwards, appearances
were not deceptive, for the flesh was tasty, juicy, and
tender. Their fine proportions certainly offered striking
contrast to the stunted, degenerated stock of the Indians,
so in-bred that some full-grown bulls were not much
larger than a finely developed St. Bernard dog.

The brothers had run up a commodious, snug and
warm bungalow type of residence, with ample accommo-
dation. Attached was a meat-storage room and dairy,
for they were practising all ramifications of farming out
here, on a scale limited, it is true, owing to the restricted
markets, but capable of an immediate expansion when
the moment arrived, that is, when the railway passed
within earshot of their home.

Though up to their eyes in work, garnering their hay
and other crops, they instantly offered to show us round.
The barn was crammed with timothy ; none of your thin
wisps barely thirty inches long, but good substantial
stalks ranging from five to six feet in length. In all,
they had gathered in from £1,000 to £1,200 worth of
hay.

"What's it worth? Well, here £8 per ton is a fair
figure, though a larger price has been paid, and probably
will be obtained again this coming winter, as there is
not sufficient hay in the valley to meet all demands.
Wild hay grows here tremendously. We have cropped
one meadow where the hay was like canes, and when
my brother went into the field you couldn't see him —
and he stands a good six feet. Some of that hay we
measured just before cutting, and it was nine feet in
height.

"How many years' work does this farm represent?

238 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

Well, we've been settled here seven years now. We hold
just on a thousand acres, and have some more which we
can clear directly. But that can wait. Every foot of
that thousand acres was ploughed, and you can form some
idea of the nature of the soil when we tell you that
throughout its whole area we only found one small stone.
It works with extreme ease, being a friable loam — silt,
probably."

Just what tremendous wealth this land represents may
be judged from the depth of the top soil. The brothers
were sinking a well for domestic purposes within easy
reach of the house, and although they had delved to
twenty-eight feet they were passing through merely the
uppermost strata, and had not reached the subsoil. In
no part of the thousand acres was the depth of top soil
less than eight feet, and one can readily conceive that
years must elapse before such ground as this becomes
tired, exhausted, or requires any artificial stimulation.
In one or two places the silt had been found to be as
much as thirty-two feet deep ! When we visited the
kitchen garden, the feet sank into the black silt as if
it were sand. At the same time, owing to its great
depth it cannot become parched to the crops, for the
reason that when saturated it holds a tremendous quantity
of water, and as the roots of the plants can force their
way easily below they can suck up illimitable quantities
of nourishment for their development from a depth well
below the evaporating effect of the sun's rays. Plants
can never starve from the want of a drink in such soil
as this. Also the Bulkley Eiver acts as a stand-by. The
brothers can quickly divert a part of its volume to flood
their fields.

We were a trifle late in the season to see the farm
at the height of its beauty, inasmuch as the hay, wheat,
and barley had been garnered. There was a field of oats
standing, and they were a sight to make an English
farmer turn green with envy. Summer frost had wrought

THE BULKLEY VALLEY 239

no havoc here, although the oat is one of the plants most
susceptible to its destructive effects. We had seen, how-
ever, fields of oats growing in exposed positions in which
the crops had been ruined by frost. This field of grain
was just ripening, and it easily topped four and a half
feet in height, with long ears well filled and matured.
This grain was worth £20 per ton on the ranch.

But the most remarkable sight was afforded by the
kitchen garden. Something of everything had been
planted. The carrots were the least successful from
external appearance, but this was explained as being due
to seeding by a new machine which was not working
properly, so that blanks were frequent, giving the bed
a ragged appearance. But the roots that were pulled for
our inspection were of splendid shape and colour, about
18 inches long, by some 2 or 3 inches across the crown.
The parsnips were better, while the white turnips were
striking examples of British Columbian fertility, for they
were almost completely spherical, weighed from 2 to 4 lb.
apiece, and as sweet and juicy as an apple. Cabbages of
all descriptions were growing in abundance. There were
savoys with hearts as tight as drums, and twelve inches
across ; curly kale thriving like young bushes ; while the
ordinary cabbages had attained huge proportions and were
reeling under their own weight. One could not span a
single plant with the two arms vsdthout crushing it. The
largest cabbage these brothers have raised yet, so they
related, turned the scale at 20 lb., and they kept it for
some time to show passers-by.

"We made one mistake when we started our kitchen
garden," remarked the brothers. "We had not quite
shaken down to the new order of things, and to make
sure, as we thought, we turned in a mass of stable manure
to help the plants along. The plants grew all right, but
they ran so much to neck, for that soil was too rich with
the fertiliser we added. We haven't got rid yet of that
stimulating dressing we gave it."

240 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

But the brothers kept their greatest surprise till the
last. This was a bed of purple-top turnip which was
being grown for winter feeding of the stock. Here was
Brobdingnag with a vengeance. The top leaves were
large, but they concealed only a far greater growth below.
The crowns, many of which were split into five heads,
were from 12 to 14 inches across. Some were pulled, and
when measured gave a circumference ranging from 24 to
36 inches ! Three roots made a bulky and heavy armful ,
as we found from experience. The Mclnnes Brothers
hold the palm in the Bulkley Valley for raising this
gpecies of turnip, for they established a record with a
single root weighing 20 lb. ! "I remember that root,"
muttered Clark, "for I offered to carry it into Hazelton,
to show what we were doing farther south, tied it to
the saddle, and had it thumping my leg like a hammer
all the way."

"That recalls the fellow at Prince Rupert with the
South Bulkley potato," chuckled one of the brothers.
Then turning to us, he explained that some fine potatoes
had been raised between there and Aldermere, and they
were taken over by an enthusiast, who carried them to
Prince Eupert in triumph for exhibition. He was ex-
patiating at great length about the tremendous, amazing,
and paradise-like productivity of the soil, and picking up
the largest "spud," a beauty about the size of a vegetable
marrow, he went on, "Now this shows you what they can
do in the Bulkley Valley ! Can you raise potatoes like
this? Have you ever seen one to beat this for size?
How would you like to raise a hundred acres of them?
This single tuber is worth so much. Talk about looking
for gold. Why, potatoes down in Bulkley will bring you
more gold than you'll ever dig up, and the strike is more
certain too ! "

"That's all right," struck in a "knocker " ; "but how
about your summer frosts down there? "

" Summer frosts ! Gee ! I guess you want a summer

THE BULKLEY VALLEY 241

frost or something to stop things growing. Where do
you think this potato would have finished if it hadn't
been for the frost?"

The long residence and farming experience of these
two Scottish brothers in this valley prompted an inquiry
as to the fruit-raising outlook.

"So far as ground and bush fruits are concerned,"
was the reply, "we can confidently say that everything
is in favour of obtaining a prolific harvest. You should
have been here a few weeks ago and seen the straw-
berries. They were as thick as ' saskatoons.' We
turned the whole lot into preserve, and you can see in-
doors the stock of packed jars we obtained from these
three or four dozen plants. As for currants, the bushes
were strained to breaking point. You will find a few if
you look." What was left on the bushes in question
bore out the brothers' enthusiasm, for we picked hand-
fuls of berries as large as black-heart cherries, a mass of
juice, and intensely sweet. The gooseberries were also
of large size, and we learned that these were simply wild
bushes, sTich as we had passed in thousands along the
trail, raised under cultivation conditions. The effect of
rough pruning and tending was reflected in the size of
the fruit, and when the country is opened up a little
more, it should amply repay the extensive production of
new species grafted on this stock.

The stock farm comprised 96 head all told, grazing
on the hillsides, and securing a plenitude of nourishing
food in the wild grasses among the trees. Five of this
roll were hogs, and the brothers vouchsafed the firm
opinion that ultimately the raising of swine would be
found to be one of the most lucrative branches of stock-
raising in the province, the demand being far in excess of
the supply, not only locally, so far as they were con-
cerned, but throughout the whole of the western country.
Indeed, the authorities have drawn attention to the
neglect of this phase of mixed farming, and have endea-
Q

242 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

voured to stimulate greater interest in the porker. These
isolated pioneer farmers were doing very well in regard
to their stock. The previous day they had sold the hind-
quarter of a steer at 9d. a lb., thereby netting £8 12s. 6d.
over the transaction, while we decided not to miss the
opportunity of obtaining the first taste of fresh meat for
some ten weeks, by the purchase of a prime 28-lb. joint
at lOd. per lb. Never did grilled steaks tickle the palate
so much as those prepared over the camp fire that night.
It was a welcome change from the eternal bacon, beans
and fish. We had felt severely the absence of fresh meat
from our menu, for although vegetables can be prepared
appetisingly, a hard grind over the trail for six or seven
hours soon proves that such fare possesses no staying
properties. Those steaks quite rejuvenated us, and we
felt fitter the next morning for a good day's wrestle with
the trail over the hills than we had done for weeks past.
To be able to withstand the rigours, hard knocks, and
fatigue of the trail, one cannot do better than imitate the
Indian, who is a staunch believer in a meat diet.

The Bulkley Valley extends from the Morice Eiver to
Moricetown, a distance of about a hundred miles in a
direct line north, and lies between the coast range or
Cascades on the one side, and the Babine mountains on
the other, while on the north it is hemmed in by the
opposing ranges closing together. The first-class arable
country covers about 200,000 acres. The country
clamours loudly for men who, though possessed of little
capital, have abundant energy and are not afraid to work
long and hard.

We had a hard climb over the rolling ridge guarding
the Pioneer Ranch. This stretch of country holds out
no promise of immediate development, owing to its rough
character, though doubtless it will be useful in days to
come as grazing ground. The upward toil led us on to
a magnificent undulating plateau, rimmed by the sharp,
tall, gaunt peaks of the outer chain of the Cascades, at

■^^

THE BULKLEY VALLEY 243

the foot of which was the silvery streak of the Bulkley
River. On the right rose up the foothills of the Babine
range , over which we could see the telegraph trail making
its sinuous way, for we had now parted company with
this friend. The elevation was high, the air clear, pure
and invigorating. We passed through dense patches of
scrub in which the luxuriant pea vine and prairie grasses
were having a healthy race with the bush to see which
could grow the highest.

The whole of this highland tract, sandwiched between
the opposing main mountain ranges, and running parallel
therewith, with its slopes falling gradually on to large,
gently undulating benches, was formerly a huge forest,
swept clean out of existence by fire. For the most part
the hump is quite bare. A large slice, aggregating 3,000
acres, constitutes one of the most celebrated ranches in
this northern country, having been acquired some twenty
years ago by Mr. Barrett, the bonanza farmer of New
British Columbia, whose ship of the bush, the Diamond
Ranch pack-train, is regarded as the finest and the best
equipped between Los Angeles and the Klondike. His
courage in advancing into this wild virgin domain brought
its own reward. We could see a rich stretch of potatoes
in the full glory of their growth. Like the other hus-
bandmen through these valleys, he simply plants his
tubers and lets the soil and climate do the rest, and to
magnificent effect, too, seeing that they average 600
bushels, and realise over £'200 per acre. The "mur-
phies" are simply sown by the plough turning them in,
and receive no further attention until they have ripened,
when they are ploughed up by animal power.

Hay is another paying investment, as we could see
by the numerous stacks. Something like a thousand
acres have been seeded to timothy, and the yield varies
from 1| to 3 tons per acre, and commands about £S per
ton on the ranch. Wild hay also grows with character-
istic luxuriance, the 500 acres or so under this plant

244 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

averaging about 2 tons per acre. The fodder raised on
this expanse is of magnificent quaUty, and has been cut
successively for some years past, showing the sustaining
richness of the soil. At the time we reached the ranch
the crop had been gathered in and the cattle were roaming
whither they pleased.

Oats also have proved a winner, having averaged
from 75 to 100 bushels per acre. Owing to the limited
quantity of this grain at present raised in the valley this
has commanded a highly satisfactory figure — about J930
per ton on the farm. The character of the country here-
abouts adapts itself to mechanical farming, which, with
the advent of transportation facilities, will doubtless be
practised. Wheat has been grown, and with success, a
yield of about 50 bushels per acre being recorded. In
regard to quality, it compares favourably with that raised
in the essentially wheat-growing areas of the Dominion,
but as an investment it has not so far proved satisfactory,
owing to lack of transport.

As we wound over the northern side of this ranch the
whir of a circular saw struck our ears. It was not
euphonious, but it was strangely welcome. Two new
towns were springing into existence about fifteen miles
farther north, and lumber was urgently required for a
multitude of purposes. Cruising round for timber re-
vealed this situation, which, from all points of view, was
eminently suitable for the establishment of the mill.
There was a good wagon road, judged according to British
Columbia standards, communicating between forest and
market. Accordingly the plant was set up, and was now
screeching from morning to night, rending tree trunks
into rough boards, and so forth. This mill was turning
the grim relics of a forest fire to commercial account,
for the trees that were being sawn up were tall, straight
pines, standing barkless and seasoned against the storm.
This utilisation of such wood , which was perfectly sound ,
and far preferable for building purposes to green wood.

4

I

THE BULKLEY VALLEY 245

is a proceeding which might be followed profitably in
other parts of the country.

The lonely trail was now left for good and all, since
this wagon road runs through the valley for a matter of
75 miles to Hazelton. The glen itself is broad and for the
most part flat, thickly covered with tall, dank prairie grass
and vetches. Prominent among the wild flowers was the
tall spike of the delphinium, rearing up to seven or eight
feet, and in the summer we were informed that the valley
was a splash of brilliant blue from the gorgeous blooms
of this flower, which at home is found in every old garden.
Here it was growing so rankly as to be considered a weed.
The aquilegia ran the delphinium very close for supre-
macy, favouring the damper and more sheltered spots.
The colours were more varied and gorgeous than those
familiar to the horticulturist of Britain, while the petals
were considerably larger. The tree growth for the most
part was poplar, with patches of fir here and there.

As we advanced, signs of settlement became more pro-
nounced, but the evidence pointed to recent invasion, for
many of the cabins were brand-new, with but little pro-
gress to show in the way of breaking the ground. The
usual plan was to clear just a little patch on which could
be grown sufficient vegetable produce "to keep the pot
boiling." The rail-head connecting with the Pacific coast
was only about eighty miles distant, and everything was
in a tear and bustle to get ready for the army of labourers
which was expected to pour into the country; for these
early settlers have golden opportunities of "making good "
for a year or two at fancy prices with the investing force,
the contractors preferring, when prices are right, to buy
on the spot rather than ship up from the coast.

A graphic idea of the gigantic character of the task
involved in feeding some 3,000 navvies was afforded us
as we travelled over the trail. Fresh meat was an in-
dispensable commodity at the camps, but the question
was how to bring it up at a sufficiently low price. Prince

246 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

Eupert is 650 miles by sea from the nearest market,
Vancouver, and then there was a pull of 180 miles up
the Skeena Eiver, taking anything from fourteen to
twenty-one days, according to the state of the weather.
To attempt to get enough supplies from the pioneer
settlers in the valley was hopeless. The contractors
thereupon conceived an extraordinarily bold project.
They would have herds of animals driven overland and
slaughtered on the spot as required. A week or two be-
fore we came over the trail a drove of 500 oxen had been
sent up-country from Quesnel to Hazelton — a matter of
420 miles — in this manner. The pioneers described the
spectacle afforded by such a small army of lumbering
brutes being driven slowly — about fifteen miles per day —
by a score or so of cowboys. It was a restless, heaving
sea of white and brown, pouring over the narrow black
trail, through the banks of green forest, browsing as
they went, with a midday halt for dinner, turned loose
at night to graze, and an exciting round-up in the morn-
ing. But no animals were lost, and the number of those
injured by the wayside could easily be counted on the
fingers, and so prime was the condition in which they
reached their journey's end, that a contract was promptly
settled for the transference of no less than 5,000 cattle
over the same 420 miles during 1911. That herd must
have pushed its way forward with the force of a batter-
ing ram, for we saw at places where the trail was
narrowest how the surging beasts had struck blindly
through the bush on either side, trampling down every-
thing before them.

We had had many and varied scraps of information
concerning Aldermere, the town for which we were
making, and expected from the flamboyant descriptions
to find at least a small village hustling along in the
wilderness, such as had been brought before us at Fort
George. But we were bitterly disappointed. On either
side of the trail straggled some twenty frame buildings,

THE BULKLEY VALLEY 247

including a commodious timber hotel, a large store, a
telegraph office and a newspaper. As for the population,
why, sixty would have been an outside census. Down
in the hollow, about a mile distant, we could see another
little colony among the trees on the bank of the Bulkley
River. A& we were informed that good feeding ground
for horses existed there, we made it our destination, cross-
ing the river by a wooden truss bridge to a flat where a
new town was being planned. The thoroughfares were
cleared through the trees. We pitched our tents in the
main street, and our camp-fire in the middle of the
road. This was New Tel-kwa, a town without people —
without even a sign of humanity beyond the two or three
surveyors engaged in their plotting task. Everything
was ready for the expected boom, for the lots were all laid
out for a purchaser's inspection and acquisition, while a
huge signboard perched on a low hummock announced the
site of the hotel.

CHAPTER XXI
The Mineral Storehouse of New British Columbia

Tel-kwa and Alder mere: Rival Towns — Finds of Coal and of Metals — A
Word of Caution — Enterprise at Tel-kwa — The Lumber Industry
— Fortunes made in the Bulkley Valley — Summer and Winter —
Hudson's Bay Mountain,

Tel-kwa is going to have a big future. So say the in-
habitants, and as they are on the spot they ought to
know. Aldermere? — the Tel-kwan considers that "a
by-town, a back-number, a side-tracked hill of conceit."
The Aldermerean, when sounded on the subject, retorts
in a similar strain to the disparagement of his rival.
"Tel-kwa! Bah! It's a town in a swamp I A mosquito
farm ! A proposition gone into the ditch I " Such is the
bitter rivalry between the two places — one has not a
single redeeming word for the other. As a matter of
fact, both probably will take up a prominent position
when New British Columbia settles down to hard, steady
business, and the completion of the railway has solved
what is now little else than a gigantic jig-saw puzzle.
Tel-kwa, from its river position and closer proximity to
the line, will doubtless become the commercial centre,
while Aldermere, from its elevated situation, command-
ing magnificent views over a most beautiful stretch of
mountain country, and its keen bracing air, has every
possible attraction for a residential centre. Perhaps both
towns will go awry ; no one can say. The railway is
the deciding point. And in Tel-kwa and Aldermere
it was whispered that the railway station was going to
be four miles distant. Should this be the case, then both
towns, and also the one in embryo, may be side-tracked,
possibly for a good many years to come.

248

1

NATURE'S MINERAL STOREHOUSE 249

At the present moment Tel-kwa is a gently humming
centre. It holds a fine commercial position, as it is at
the junction of the Tel-kwa with the Bulkley Kiver. The
mountains teem with minerals of all descriptions, and
their flanks were alive with prospectors.

The twin towns are an excellent jumping-ofE point for
prospectors among those rugged fastnesses, and one can
get right into the Cascades easily from here by following
the course of the Tel-kwa Eiver, which rises in the range
of the same name. The prospector has been exception-
ally busy in these mountains, and rumours of great
"strikes " on every side were rife. Here it was a heavy
find of galena ; there one of silver ; coal abounded some-
where else ; gold was the reward of another prospector's
persistence ; while copper seemed to be so abundant on all
sides that one began to wonder if the mountains were
not entirely composed of that metal. Certain it is, how-
ever, that lead, silver and coal exist in enoimous quanti-
ties, and the office of the Deputy Mining Kecorder, Mr.
Reginald Gale, an Englishman who had trekked so far
north-west as this, was embellished with huge chunks of
ore, assay of which had shown the presence of minerals
in varying quantities.

Altogether, up to August of 1910, about 500 claims
had been allowed by the Government, so that fickle
Fortune had evidently been kind to the "mountain
scratchers." And they had barely touched the surface.
When the scientific hand appears and carries out the
search upon a systematic basis, then the real possibilities
of the country will be revealed; but the pioneers have
done sufficient to prove that, from the mineral point of
view, upper New British Columbia is indeed a huge store-
house of dormant mineral wealth. Development natur-
ally cannot be rapid until the advent of the railway, inas-
much as the cost of transport is so high as to militate
against the introduction of the machinery necessary to
mining on a commercial basis.

250 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

The most promising discovery which has been made
is that of coal. If there is one mineral more than another
which will spell prosperity to Northern British Columbia,
it is this. In fact, should the "find " come within a tithe
of the computation, its influence will be felt throughout
the whole of this western province. Experts who have
investigated the discovery very closely, informed me that
the basin extends over 28,000 acres, and that it represents
deposits of over 1,000,000,000 tons. Should this be
correct, then indeed the "strike " will rank as one of the
largest known beds of bituminous coal on the North
American continent. The mines are about 30 miles due
west of Tel-kwa, and it is pointed out that the course of
the river offers the most feasible route to tap these re-
sources and to link them with the main line. Consider-
ing that no coal has been found to the south within a
radius of 500 miles, that Prince Kupert has to depend
for every ounce of this fuel upon Nanaimo, some 600
miles distant by water, it is evident that the existence of
these reserves is destined to send the northern part of the
country forward with a tremendous impetus, especially
as the field is within ninety miles of Prince Kupert.

Two other finds of coal-bearing land, west of Tel-kwa,
have been made and are being exploited. On Hudson's
Bay mountain a small syndicate has made a rich strike
of silver-lead, the ore being of high grade, while another
syndicate is operating a copper find. The mining activity
on all sides is remarkable, and it only needs the announce-
ment of a big strike of gold to complete the fascination.

But everything is in a nebulous state just at present.
From my conversations with mining engineers in the
locality, the position of affairs may be summed up briefly
as "offering a first-rate sporting chance." The man who
likes a speculation has just the opportunity. The outlook
is in his favour — certainly more promising than the
great majority of such propositions. But to give an
emphatic declaration that absolute success is assured is

NATURE'S MINERAL STOREHOUSE 251

impossible. Only actual development can prove whether
this or that claim is sufficiently strong in yield to be
profitable. Very few of the finds yet made have been
subjected to the stern investigation of assay. Until that
is effected the yield per ton of ore, or the quality of the
metal, cannot be determined. Then, again, the ques-
tion of cost has to be considered, and there is no basis
yet available upon which this important factor can be
determined. But the speculator can be left to take care
of himself.

From the investment point of view one must regard
the matter in a different way. Apart from coal, which
is in urgent demand throughout the whole territory,
mining companies founded on propositions out here must
be closely scrutinised, for the "wild cat" will be let
loose soon. These mountains, while among the richest
in mineral wealth, are the most untrustworthy on the
surface of the globe from the geological point of view.
When they were moulded by Nature there must have
been terrible ructions ; the stratification became broken
up and twisted about sadly , with the result that faults are
numerous, and when these occur, heavy and expensive
work is often entailed in picking up the leads again. But
one must not lose sight of the fact that down in Southern
British Columbia, on the "Boundary," where similar con-
ditions prevail, the mining industry has assumed huge
proportions, and is one of the greatest mainstays of the
province. Comparing the two territories, the north is
far more attractive, and the indications are that, once
the mining industry here becomes firmly established, it
will outstrip the boundary, especially if the coal dis-
coveries fulfil anticipations, for cheap fuel will in that
case be on the spot.

Fort George provided some interesting studies of
frontier life in a frontier town, and those we obtained of
life in this frontier mining settlement came as a supple-
ment. Up on the Babines a prospector, possessed of a

252 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

little more geological and scientific knowledge than the
majority of his ilk, had rigged up a little assay equipment,
so that he could obtain on the spot a rough calculation
as to the value of his finds, and thereby ascertain
whether the "strikes" he made were sufficiently pro-
mising to warrant the expense and trouble of staking.
Down by the water-side another enterprising person
was experimenting with fluxes for the treatment of re-
fractory ores. A third was taking time by the fore-
lock with a vengeance, Tel-kwa could point to but a
single street, and that only in the timber stage, while the
new town could not even boast a tent. Yet here was a
pioneer diligently trying to make bricks, testing the quali-
ties of the clays found in the vicinity of the town for
this purpose, having contrived a small primitive, hand-
operated pug mill, and also a tiny kiln. He was looking
particularly to the town's transition from timber to brick,
but realised that if mineral exploitation in the vicinity
were carried to the anticipated commercial stage, in the
near future too, there would be a demand for bricks for
a hundred and one purposes, and he was determined to be
ready for the occasion.

When Tel-kwa and Aldermere started moving, cross-
ing the river was a difficulty, the existing bridge being a
crazy structure and quite unsuited to traffic. The inhabit-
ants petitioned the Government to build a new one across
the two estuaries, so as to gain the flats immediately
opposite Tel-kwa. The Government told the people to
go ahead with it themselves, and they would defray the
cost. The inhabitants set to work and built a solid struc-
ture, of the familiar open steel type, only wrought in
wood, using huge balks about 12 or 15 inches square,
secured together with large iron dogs. It is a fine piece of
substantial timber work, but it cost some ^6,000 to carry
through.

The lumber industry will be one of considerable im-
portance. Up the river are some large stretches of ex-

1

NATURE'S MINERAL STOREHOUSE 253

celleat timber, which is floated down the Bulkley River
to Tel-kwa, and occasionally as far as Moricetown, some
twenty miles beyond. Up to the time of our visit over
200,000 feet had been rafted down, one large consignment
arriving the night we camped. Lumber commands a
fairly high price ; that cut up at the mill we passed, fifteen
miles out, fetching £5 12s. 6d. per thousand lineal feet
delivered in Aldermere and Tel-kwa, but cheaper at the
mill.

The demand for lumber, though increasing every day,
will have a great fillip when the mines get to work. To
meet this contingency the enterprising pioneer who estab-
lished the existing up-country saw-mill was erecting
another large plant in the heart of the town. It was to
be up-to-date in every respect. The saw-planer and other
tools were to be electrically driven. It was costing this
hard-headed pioneer a pretty penny to realise his ambi-
tion, as everything had to be brought in by road from
Hazelton, a matter of sixty miles, and freightage charges
were about £5 per ton, while a like amount had to be
paid to bring the materials up the Skeena River from
Prince Rupert. But his enterprise was to be doubly
rewarded. Not only would he have the most modern saw-
mill in the district, but the town of Tel-kwa had contracted
for a supply of electric light from the same dynamo.

Taken on the whole, it may be said that there is a
healthy race between agriculture and mining for the blue
ribbon of industrial supremacy in the Bulkley valley.
The future of the former is amply secured, but it will be
pushed hard by its rival. The success of the mines will
be to the material benefit of the farmers, since it will
provide them with valuable markets for their produce
on the spot.

Already more than one snug little fortune has been
made in the Bulkley Valley out of land. One old sour-
dough came in with only some £15 in his pocket, and
within five years of the allotted span of human life. Too

254 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

advanced to start farming, you might say; but you did
not know that sturdy constitution. The veteran set to
work energetically on his land, and to such effect that
five years later he sold out for £4,000 ! Even then he
had not finished, for he packed up his small require-
ments and straightway set his footsteps towards the
Peace Kiver, determined to participate in the boom that
was developing in that country.

. A similar story was related to me of another old
campaigner, who was sixty years of age when he pulled
into the South Bulkley Valley. His land was partly
timbered, but he knew how to wield an axe and how to
pull up stumps. One day he was observed passing
through Aldermere northward bound. He was just going
out, his improved farm having arrested the attention of
a younger man who bought out the veteran for some-
thing like £3,000 ! In the Bulkley Valley, owing to the
bounteousness of Nature, one is not too young to take
up the land, nor too old to set about farming. The
climate is ideal. Though in the summer, as we found,
the sun blazes down from a cloudless sky and is some-
what hot, it is not unbearably so, and we could always
sleep in comfort, as the winds blowing from any direc-
tion sweep the ice-clad mountain tops, cooling what
would otherwise be a veritable oven. Though weeks
may pass without rain falling, the ground, owing to its
depth of top-soil, is wonderfully retentive of moisture,
while the dews are heavy.

Winter in the valley is admittedly severe, owing
probably in a great measure to the proximity of the
mountains. But the snowfall, we were told, is far from
heavy, 18 inches being considered a good depth. The
reading of the thermometer is occasionally low, 40 degrees
(Fahrenheit) of frost having been notched at some
places. On the other hand, the air is crisp and dry, so
that, with a little forethought in regard to clothing, the
cold is not particularly felt; certainly, in the opinion of

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NATURE'S MINERAL STOREHOUSE 255

many who had come up from the United States, it is not
so severe as that prevaihng in the Dakotas, Wisconsin,
and Montana.

We spent two days at Tel-kwa, one of the party,
Russell the artist, having contracted rheumatism in his
knee, which rendered it extremely painful, if not impos-
sible, to ride. This development was rather unfortu-
nate, since so far we had borne a clean bill of health, the
rigours and arduousness of the trail , the frequent soakings
to the skin, often for day after day, notwithstanding,
Aldermere is connected with Hazelton by a tolerably good
wagon road, over which plies the mail stage, covering the
sixty miles in a couple of days, and stopping over-night
at Moricetown, about half-way. We suggested that Rus-
sell should avail himself of this conveyance, but with
Scottish persistence he spumed the idea, so we resumed
our "hike," though we anticipated that he would be un-
able to withstand the shaking up incidental to riding on
a pack-horse.

By the time the Glacier Hbuse, directly opposite
Hudson's Bay Mountain, was gained, our sick man was
completely hors de combat, so we wired back to Aider-
mere for another vehicle to come along to carry him to
Hazelton. At this juncture another of the party discarded
his ship of the bush, and decided to complete the last
forty-eight miles by stage. Our party had now dwindled
to five all told, and we were going strong.

We camped in the vicinity of this wayside hotel, for
the side journey to the base of Hudson's Bay Mountain.
The rugged mass sheered up directly in front of us, and
we had a splendid uninterrupted view of its mighty
glacier. It seemed but three miles away, but mine host
of the inn said it was fully twice that distance in a
straight line and two more by trail. The latter, he said,
was in first-class condition, and there was a bridge
across the Bulkley River for foot traffic.

As the horses could not be taken in, it was decided

256 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

that Lett and Joe, the cook, should go on afoot, carrying
a meagre midday meal in their pockets, while I should
remain behind with the camp to act as cook. The two
started off in the early morning confident of being back
by nightfall. But night fell without any sign of their
return, though, as the moon was shining brightly, we
delayed turning in until after eleven o'clock.

During the night, being disturbed by what I took to
be the sound of footsteps, and thinking our companions
were coming in — as a matter of fact it was the horses
rambling through the bush — I crept out of the tent, and
received a momentary shock, for I was half asleep. The
whole sky was brilliantly illuminated, and, looking to
the north, there was a reflection as of the lights of a big
city from afar. It was a brilliant display of the "north-
ern lights," the suffusion on the horizon changing from
deep rich purple through greens and reds to brilliant
yellows. The display was so vivid that one could read a
newspaper with ease, and not until coming day began to
illumine the east did it pale its fires.

About eight o'clock we saw two figures come stum-
bling through the forest. They were the wanderers,
and Lett was just about "done up." A stiff brandy, how-
ever, soon revived him somewhat, while a good, hearty
breakfast completed the restorative process. Joe, being
a man accustomed to the wilds, was in fine fettle, though
in his broken English he confessed that "he was a bit
tired." They had experienced a pretty rough time. The
trail was little more than a myth , while the bridge across
the Bulkley — well, that was a splash of frontier humour.
After they had reached the lake and had completed their
investigations they commenced their return journey,
which should have landed them in the camp at nightfall,
but they found such contradictory blazing on the trees
of the forest that they lost their way, and had to pass
the night, tired out and hungry, before a blazing pile
which they kindled.

CHAPTER XXII
The End of the Trail

An Industrious Siwash — A Timely Salmon — Moricetown — The " Salmon
Leap " — A Dispute with Siwashes — Cottonwood for Pulp ? — A Falling
Tree — ^The Last Lap of the Trail— A Native Bridge over the Skeena.

Having seen our invalid made as comfortable as a back-
woods vehicle will allow, we pushed ahead. A glorious
sunny day, bracing air, and a good dry trail invigorated
man and beast alike, so we sped forwards rapidly. Here
and there we saw a prospector come through the bush
and turn his horses' heads towards Hazelton. Some bore
weighty sacks containing the prizes they had won among
the mountain couloirs, and which were to be examined
farther south to determine the percentage of metal in the
ore, A Siwash overtook us. He, too, had contracted
the malady, and had been far into the heart of the Cas-
cades' outer range scouring the bare sides for mineral.
Yes, he had been lucky. He had made two good strikes,
of which he had disposed already to his very distinct
advantage. He was an exceptional Indian, educated and
industrious, and, unlike the majority of his comrades, not
above taking a leaf out of the white man's book. He
scurried on ahead of us at the speed only an Indian can
obtain out of his cayouse, and a little later we met him
returning over the trail with a prairie schooner packed
to overflowing with a settler's effects which he had con-
tracted to bring in. Truly that Siwash was not letting
the grass grow under his feet !

That Indian's second passing of our train brought us
a little slice of luck. We observed on the back of his
wagon a long string of big fat salmon — he was carrying

R 357

258 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

his fresh meat with him — and the sight developed in us
a craving for a salmon steak, for these were large and
more tempting than those we had seen hitherto. In the
course of a few minutes we happened upon a beauty lying
in the road. It was about 14 lb. in weight, and had
fallen from the Siwash's string. From its appearance it
had not been out of the water more than an hour or so,
and we had a fine supper that night. The fish was all
the more acceptable inasmuch as our larder was shrink-
ing to a very low level. It would just about last the
reduced party to Hazelton, but not a mile beyond.

Though the valley between the Glacier House and
Moricetown is narrow, there are some excellent
stretches of arable land, and these were being settled
rapidly. As is usual throughout New British Columbia,
the Indians were in possession of the most tempting
areas, and with the invariable result — they harvested the
utmost with the minimum of effort.

Moricetown is essentially an Indian village. It is a
wide semicircular flat, with soil of the same rich charac-
ter as prevails all through the Bulkley Valley, and as
level as a cricket ground. The river makes a sharp bend,
swinging through the centre of the reservation. On all
sides were seen the ragged, crazy domiciles of the
Indians, and the pure air of the country was contami-
nated by a sickening odour of fish. Moricetown is a
great salmon centre, since the fish in their run up the
Skeena River from the sea turn into the Bulkley and
stampede up this noble waterway in swarms. But at
Moricetown they meet an obstacle which none but the
strongest can surmount — a waterfall some fifteen feet in
height. Here the river tumbles over a rocky ledge in a
somewhat narrowed channel, and then surges through a
-canon. "Salmon Leap" this drop is indeed, for when
the salmon are on the run they can be seen jumping in
shoals, while the water at the foot of the fall is simply a
mass of silvery scales.

THE END OF THE TRAIL 259

The Indians have run out a crazy wooden platform
from the northern bank to a point under the lowest part
of the fall which the fish attempt to jump. We watched
the Siwashes catching prime prizes up to 20 lb. in weight
as fast as they could go, for as many as twelve or fifteen
fish in the air, simultaneously endeavouring to make the
leap, was no unusual sight. But only a small percentage
succeeded — a large number fell victims to the Indian's
spear.

The man's method was extremely crude. He stood
on the edge of his platform armed with a pole. As the
salmon jumped, his spear flew out like a flash, catching
the fish in mid-air, and with a dexterous movement the
quarry was whipped round and discharged on to a shelf.
One Indian, who was evidently a master of the art,
yanked twelve beauties out of the water, or rather out of
the air, in a minute, and the narrow ledge was a gleam-
ing, tumbled heap of quivering silver. As further fish
were added to the pile, the whole mass was pushed along
the shelf until the heap at last stretched from the outer
end to the bank. Klootches passed in an endless stream,
packing the fish into their capacious baskets and bearing
them off to the curing shacks, in which, gutted and
opened out like haddocks, they were being dried in the
smoke. The Siwashes stand at the end of the platform
from early morning till late at night; one man, directly
he grows weary of the continually alternating throw of
the pole and the haul in of a weighty prize, drops back
to make way for another of his tribe, the round being
kept up during the livelong day. Although the Indians
wreak such destruction among the fish, yet large numbers
are found at Tel-kwa, and even as far south as the
Morice Eiver.

We crossed the boiling waterway at the entrance to
the little gorge, and were soon gripping our noses with
our fingers, for the stench of the fish was overpowering.
Shack after shack was seen crammed from ground to

26o THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

roof with long rods of kippered salmon, packed as tightly
as possible on the length of wood, their weight causing
the support to sag ominously. Each curing shack carried
thousands of fish. The Indians do fairly well out of this
trade, selling the dried produce among their fellow-
tribesmen in other parts of the district for food, while
it is also the mainstay of their dog-trains during the
winter. They endeavour to dispose of quantities to the
white men, but the latter invariably turn a deaf ear to
such entreaties, except for feeding their dogs, since
the fish is far from appetising in its appearance, while
the insanitary conditions under which it is cured cannot
be forgotten. We met more than one hale old fellow, or
klootch, trudging along towards Hazelton with a huge
pile of fish strapped on the back, or saddled to the backs
of dogs, which are pressed into service as pack-trains in
the lack of a horse. The Siwashes think nothing of
tramping over the thirty-two miles between their settle-
ment and Hazelton, which is another large reservation,
to dispose of their produce ; this is somewhat remark-
able, seeing that the Skeena Eiver Indians have ample
opportunities of netting large quantities of the fish in
the waters flowing by their doors.

As we had had more than enough of Indian company,
we left the village behind us, gaining a large open flat,
also the property of the red man, about three miles
beyond. Here we pitched camp, settling down to a quiet
chat and smoke after supper, for we were rapidly ap-
proaching our journey's end so far as the trail was con-
cerned. Only one more night after this in the bush.
Such were our thoughts, but the Indians came pretty
nigh upsetting our calculations. The horses were turned
loose in the usual manner, though we had repeatedly ad-
vised Baker, our second packer, to hobble one of his six
horses, for it was of a particularly roving disposition.
But he refused to listen to argument, until his pocket
was touched, and then he learned a short, sharp lesson.

THE END OF THE TRAIL 261

When the two packers set out at dawn to round up
their animals Sam came romping in with his bunch, but
Baker had a fruitless search which lasted three hours.
We were having breakfast, when up clattered an Indian
boy, of about twelve, astride his steed, and with the
inevitable Remington 22 across his shoulder — a red boy,
almost as soon as he can walk, is taught to handle a gun.

"White man lose horses?" he asked laconically.

"Yep! Seen any?"

'"M. Indian barn."

"How many? "

"Four, five, six," holding up his grimy digits.

With much coaxing we induced him to describe them,
and it was not difficult to grasp that our missing animals
had been corralled by the red men. Baker tore off hotly
with the young Indian, breathing revenge, and intending
to teach the red man a lesson for daring to round up his
beasts. But he came back looking pretty crestfallen.

"The sons of guns say my plugs jumped the fence
round their oatfield during the night, that they had to
get up and chase them out, that they got in agen, and
at last had to be corralled," was his report.

"Well, go and get them out," advised Sam,

"Daren't ! The damnable coloured sons of a sea cook
won't let them go for less than fifty dollars. Say they
did that amount of damage to the crops ! "

One of the offended Indians soon came up, but he
was proof against cajolery. " Whi'e man's horses eat an'
tread oats. Whi'e man pay. Whi'e man make law :
whi'e man keep law."

The Indian was right. From the legal point of view
he was in an entrenched position, though he had over-
stepped his powers by corralling the animals. Still, it
was more than we dared to take them by force.

When it comes to matters of this delicate character
the wiliness of the Indian leaves the white man tied in
knots. Sam was for taking the bull by the horns in his

262 THK NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

rough frontier manner, and having it settled by the
tribunal afterwards: Baker was somewhat nervous of
such a high-handed proceeding; while Lett tried diplo-
macy. But this was of no effect.

"Giv' me fif'y doU'r. Whi'e man have cayouses,"
the red man muttered.

"Look here, you son of a gun. You're trying to put
it up on me, and I'm not having any," Baker at last
growled. "You come along with me to Hazelton and
we'll see the Indian agent." This white official is the
arbiter of all disputes and complaints between the white
and red men, and it must be admitted he holds the
balance with a striking degree of fairness.

"Me com' Hazelton sure. See Indian agent. He see
Indian qui' right."

Baker argued with the Indian, vainly endeavouring
to compromise matters. It occupied over two hours to
bring the dispute to a satisfactory termination, the end
being that the Indian reduced his claim for damages to
J62, which Baker promptly paid, and came back with
his horses.

"Say," said Sam, "did you see what damage your
plugs had done to the oats? "

"No ! "What was the use? I got off with ten dollars
anyway."

"Gee ! You've been skinned clean. You bet yar life
that those plugs war never in those oats."

We heard afterwards that Sam's surmise was correct.
The damage was absolutely imaginary, the horses having
been spotted browsing quietly in the open flat near by.
But the Indian saw the chance to turn a penny at the
expense of the white man and promptly took it, with
complete success.

Wending our way off the flat, we dipped again into
the bush. The valley closed up very rapidly now ; the
two ranges came within a few hundred feet of one
another, with the Bulkley forcing its way through the

THE END OF THE TRAIL 263

narrow gorge between. Leaving Aldermere, the view of
river and mountain scenery is wildly picturesque, and
the railway and high road are hard pushed to find a
track through the narrow space, the iron path being
forced clean up on to the mountain side. From the
edge of the wagon road the bank drops precipitously
into the river, and the water flows through a continuous
series of rocky ravines. The permanent way requires a
full hundred feet, and the wagon road demands sixty
feet, so the two jostle one another very tightly here and
there to get round a hump, shoulders of the Cascade
having to be cut away in large chunks at places to permit
the two to pass.

The men were out fixing the wagon road, while the
clearing gangs were completing their work for the rail-
way, there being a scene of general destruction where the
immense cottonwoods had been felled, and were now
smouldering slowly in huge piles. Large groves of cedar-
wood were traversed, but the timber was of little practical
value, being rather small or faulty. The cottonwood, on
the other hand, attained an immense size. It will be a
fortunate day for British Columbia when applied science
discovers some economical use for this timber. At pre-
sent it is useless except for Indian dug-outs, and such a
market is limited. The tree will reach a girth of six or
eight feet, but the wood is very soft and brittle, splits
readily owing to the grain, and has no durability, so is
useless for lumber purposes. There are huge expanses of
this wood all through the country, especially down the
Fraser Eiver Valley, and unless some means of turning
it to commercial advantage is found, it will disappear in
smoke and ash. The most feasible field of utilisation
would appear to be paper-making, and if its suitability
for pulp should be proved, then what is at present an un-
mitigated nuisance will become a valuable asset, espe-
cially in view of the fact that what is generally described
as small poplar is in reality young cottonwood.

i64 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

We had one final exciting minute while threading this
series of gorges — the last thrilling touch on the trail.
The road wound in a broad horseshoe round a rift in
the mountain side. At the bottom of the dip were two
or three cottonwood trees towering to about 200 feet in
height. The road gang was fixing the highway on this
loop, easing the grade, and increasing the width. In so
doing they had undercut the support of one of these trees ,
causing it to assume a threatening cant. They could
not bring it down for a time, since their camp was situ-
ated in the bend of the horseshoe, directly in the line in
which the tree would fall. We were walking along at
the normal leisurely pack-train pace, when a number of
sharp cracks and creaks were heard. Looking up, we
saw the cottonwood column quivering violently and heel-
ing over farther. The road builders scuttled like rabbits,
and shouted to us to drive like mad. That pack-train was
never galvanised into a gallop so quickly. The tree was
coming over, and the question, as we could not turn
back, or swing to one side, was whether we should get
round the bend before the tree crashed down. The
groaning and cracking continued, and we plunged for-
ward in desperation, but just as we thought the whole lot
was coming down pell mell into our midst, the lower
branches of the collapsing giant became entangled in
other trees alongside and propped it up. Though we got
round safely, after an inspiriting ride, which scattered
the pack-train in a long-drawn-out line, the outlook for
the building camp was by no means rosy. The men,
however, were soon swarming round their tents, fever-
ishly making a move to a safer position before bringing
the tree to the ground for once and all with the aid of
a dynamite cartridge.

That night was our last on the trail. We had gauged
the commissariat pretty closely, for when breakfast was
finished there was not enough to carry us through
another meal. But Hazelton was only twelve miles dis-

THE END OF THE TRAIL 265

tant. Even if we had to foot the remainmg distance, it
could be covered in about five hours, so we viewed the
situation with an easy mind.

That last lap was a dismal pull. For best part of the
way the trail wound through an interminable burnt
forest. We climbed to the high land, from which we
could see mountains on every side, including the white
tops of the forbidding Skeena clumps, which stretch away
in an unbroken mass for some three or four hundred miles
to the Klondike. As we toiled along we heard a shrill
blast reverberate up the valley. It was the strident tone
of a steamboat siren, and its shriek produced a strange
thrill. It quickened our pace. Twisting, turning, and
switchbacking over desolate country where only the fire
weed grows, for some three hours, brought us to a sudden
dip leading to the Bulkley Kiver, and a strange Indian
village. Here dwells another tribe of Siwashes, far more
industrious, intelligent, and agreeable than those we
had encountered during our journey up to this point.

Hag-wel-get, or Acquilget, this settlement is called —
no one appears to know the right name, though probably
the latter is the correct one. Here the Bulkley rushes
through a wild canon. The channel is through the
solid rock, the sides being perfectly vertical, and so
smooth that they appear to have been trimmed with a
chisel, offering no foothold for any wingless living crea-
ture. The gorge is about 80 ft. in depth, and the fierce
velocity of the current would make it impossible for a
ferry to cross from side to side, even if approaches were
cut in the cliff face for such a convenience.

In solving the communication problem across this
gorge the Skeena Siwashes displayed remarkable in-
genuity. They built a bridge of logs, and what is more,
adopted the cantilever principle, which the more learned
white man regards as a tour de force. The Bulkley
bridge is an interesting piece of work, and one would like
to know how these unsophisticated natives were able to

266 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

set up the massive pieces of timber with the crude appli-
ances at their command. From either chff project out-
wards two huge tree trunks about 100 feet in length,
anchored in the cliff face, which was hollowed out to
carry them ; on the ends were piled massive boulders and
debris in general to a weight of about 30 tons. Two
diagonal legs spring from beneath the anchorages to sup-
port the projecting deck beams. The gap between
the arms overhanging the centre of the river is
filled by two more logs, one on either side,
lashed to the outermost ends of the shore pieces,
while a continuation of the shore legs is effected at
a sharper angle upwards, the outer ends of these in
turn carrying longitudinal members from which the
deck is partially slung. The bridge is a true type of
cantilever design, though necessarily on primitive lines.
But the amazing feature of the whole weird structure is
that the varying members are not secured together by
nails, bolts, or screws, but simply lashed up with willow
thongs. It is a crazy-looking affair, and when you ven-
ture on, it creaks, groans, and swings as if threatening to
collapse at every footstep. Even the weight of a dog is
sufficient to set it in vibration. Yet it has fulfilled its
purpose to an amazing degree, though white men prefer
to look at, and not to walk upon it. Every spring the
Indians have to overhaul the structure, and renew the
lashings.

This fantastic, frail-looking link was the sole means of
crossing the river at this point until a few years ago,
when the British Columbia Government, in view of in-
creasing traffic, erected a substantial wooden suspension
bridge across the gorge a little lower down. The Indians
were somewhat mortified to find that their handiwork
was regarded as unsafe, and they gathered round to see
what the white engineers would do. What appealed
mostly to their imagination was the cables and wire-guys
which the whites used. They could not grasp their

THE END OF THE TRAIL 267

significance at all, so they came to the conclusion that
these were merely decorations, and had nothing to do
with holding the fabric together. Forthwith they re-
solved to embellish their structure in the same manner,
so they begged, borrowed, and stole wire from wherever
they could. The wonder is that they did not go the
length of stripping the telegraph line which runs into
Hazelton. Securing what they wanted, they ran the
wire here, there, and everywhere over their bridge, with
the result that it became more bizarre than ever. At
the same time they strengthened the bridge somewhat
with nail and other fastenings.

Four miles beyond the Bulkley Eiver Gorge the trail,
now a broad road, over which a considerable volume of
traffic passes, emerged from the poplar scrub which
screens vast tracts of valuable arable soil. The Skeena
Eiver could be seen rushing along , backed in the distance
by a row of regular snow-crusted teeth — the Seven Sisters
— and numerous other crested humps of the Cascades.
Below in the hollow gleamed a number of white roofs,
and there was a general air of pulsating activity. We
had reached the end of the trail — the town beneath our
feet was Hazelton.

CHAPTER XXIII
The Head of Navigation on the Skeena

The Origin of Hazelton — The Doorway of the Bulkley Valley — Why the
Grand Trunk Pacific Avoided the Town — Moving Incidents — An
Indian Cemetery — The Devil-may-care Spirit — Hazelton's Model
Hospital — The " Moving-Picture Ward " — Colonisation in the
Valleys around — Openings for Veterinary Surgeons and Doctors.

The town of Hazelton, in the words of the westerner, is
a "was-er" — that is to say, it is a centre of activity
whose days of importance are waning rapidly. It sprang
up around the Hudson's Bay post, nominally the head
of navigation on the Skeena Eiver, though, as a matter
of fact, the shallow-draught boats can steam twelve or
fourteen miles beyond. The Adventurers, however,
determined this location to be the most convenient from
their point of view, since easy communication can be
maintained with the neighbouring posts north, south,
and east, which possess no other doorway to the sea.
When we drew rein within its portals ships of the bush
were loading up with weighty and bulky packs of mer-
chandise of every conceivable description, from portable
cooking ranges to reels of cotton, preparatory to the last
sail of the season to all parts of the surrounding country,
one famous pack-train of some ninety head pushing off for
the last trip into the Babines over a rough mountain
trail of about seventy-five miles.

Scenically the town is very a,ttractive, with its backing
of towering, gaunt, steep mountains, while, from the
health point of view, it is an ideal sanatorium, owing to
its bracing air. When its days as a commercial pivot
pass away it should yet possess a certain future as a

268

HAZELTON 269

health resort, and also as a tourist rendezvous, since it
is an excellent centre from which to penetrate the moun-
tain fastnesses on every hand. Hitherto it has been of
importance also as the doorway to the Bulkley Valley,
through the series of narrow gorges which we had
threaded, the waterway to the coast, 180 miles distant,
being traversed by steamboat or Indian canoe. But the
railway has sealed its fate. Commercially, it was use-
less to the Grand Trunk Pacific, since expansion of the
town's limits is frustrated by the Indian possessions,
which crush the white man's settlement — only thirteen
acres in extent — on three sides, while the river is the
barrier on the fourth. The railway avoids the town by some
three miles, plunging through the shoulder of the moun-
tain guarding the entrance to the Bulkley Valley. As
the steamboat service will never be able to compete with
the railway coming up the Skeena, either for freight or
passenger traf&c, Hazelton must inevitably tend to decay.

Hazelton is a combination of the end-of-steel town,
a mining frontier colony, an Indian village, a white
settlement and a trading centre, with untrammelled
licensed hotels to liven things up — truly a strange mix-
ture. But the components do not blend ; for white and
red in Canada, like oil and vinegar, will not mix. The
one has no use, and cherishes a supreme contempt, for
the other.

In winter the thermometer at Hazelton drops to the
neighbourhood of 60 degrees Fahr. of frost, with a
heavy snowfall, but the air is clear and invigorating, and
the snow packs so firmly that movement is easy by snow-
shoe, ski and sled, while the sun shines from a cloud-
less sky for week after week continuously. One and all
of the inhabitants told me that life then is indeed worth
living, for they indulge in winter sports to their hearts'
content, with fun fast and furious. On the other hand,
the summer is glorious, there being a scanty rainfall and
a temperature never rising to an unbearable point. When

270 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

other towns in the same latitude, and even farther north,
are sweltering in an oven-like heat, Hazelton is cool and
comfortable, with the thermometer oscillating between
80 and 90 degrees.

Now and again there is a touch of excitement which
vibrates through the little colony like the pang of a jump-
ing toothache. For instance, one night there were high
words between an industrious and more than normally
intelligent Siwash, named Simon, aad a half-breed.
There had been some clandestine meetings between the
latter and Simon's klootch during the Indian's absence,
and the red man's expostulations being met with taunts,
he announced his intention of going home to fetch his
gun and shoot his opponent. The half-breed laughed
contemptuously ; but Simon acted upon his word, shot
the half-breed through the head with his 22, and, what
was more, slugged another resident. The hue and cry
was raised, but the Indian and a colleague bolted, seek-
ing refuge in the rugged mountains north of the Skeena
Eiver, where they roam to this day with a third outlaw,
ekeing out an existence by trapping.

On another occasion news sped into the town of an
Indian uprising in the Kispiox Valley, some forty miles
away to the north. Every Hazeltonian grabbed his rifle
in expectancy of a spirited conflict. But it never came.
The cause of the uproar was that the Government work-
men, forcing a road through the valley, had been com-
pelled to abandon their task by the aggressive attitude
of the Indians. The latter had heard that when the rail-
way acquired land lower down the river, the dispossessed
owners received compensation, and they resolved to take
similar action. This was the rebellion ! The Indian
agent hurried to the spot, explained the whole situation
to the natives, and as the pronouncements of this arbi-
trator are always greatly respected by the Indians, the
episode ended in a fizzle.

It was our intention, on gaining Hazelton, to aban-

HAZELTON 271

don the tent which for so long had been our portable
home, in favour of one of the two hotels of which we
had heard much. But a hurried glimpse at the cramped
cubicle available caused us to decide right away that
canvas should shelter our couch until we struck civilisa-
tion fairly and squarely at Prince Rupert. Like gipsies,
we planted ourselves upon a plot of ground belonging
to the Hudson's Bay Company, facing the post, and
through the courteous assistance of the factor, made
ourselves thoroughly comfortable, since the duration of
our stay was somewhat uncertain, steamboat navigation,
owing to the low state of the river, being at sixes and
sevens. Nor was this all. The monotonous round of
trail fare was broken delightfully and surprisingly
through the kindness of "my lady of the post," who
evidently took compassion on a motley crowd of un-
kempt nomads, looking more ragged than the Indians
after a round hundred days' grapple with the bush, and
provided us with a goodly supply of raspberry preserve
and an iced cake, for which unexpected delicacies, in
a land w'here bacon and beans reign supreme, we were
devoutly thankful.

Overlooking the tow'n, on the eastern side, is a low
hill dotted with what from the distance appeared to be
ornate chicken runs or fantastic summer-houses. This
is the Indian cemetery, one of the queerest sights that
British Columbia can offer. The Indian observes the
death of a relative in mighty lamentation — mafficking
w^ould be nearer the mark. There is an extensive round
of wailing and gorgeous feasting. No matter if the de-
ceased had been thrown on one side for some time past
as a derelict, his embarkation for the happy hunting-
ground must be accompanied by some sign of sad joy and
his glorious memory honoured. The Indian God's acre
is no carefully enclosed and trimly kept preserve, but
merely an unfenced, uncleared strip of thick bush. When
a grave has to be dug, the scrub is lopped from the

272 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

desired last resting-place, and the final phase in the
obsequies is the erection of a weird monument, wrought
in wood. The Siwashes appear to spare no effort to
render it as grotesque as human skill can contrive. A
miniature Chinese pagoda or summer-house seems to be
the most popular type of monument.

In these strange transparent glazed mausoleums the
personal belongings and gew-gaws of the deceased are
prominently displayed. It may be a trunk or a dressing-
table, bedecked sometimes with vases of withered
blossoms. In one instance a massive gold-cased watch
and heavy chain were conspicuous on the table. The
embellishment of the tomb is completed invariably by a
large photograph of the deceased, while from a line
stretched across the interior depend mournfully the rem-
nants of his or her clothing.

After a monument has been erected, the sad rites are
terminated once and for all. The tomb is left to its
own devices ; not a cent is expended upon its upkeep. It
stands until the ravages of rain, storm and dry-rot com-
pass its destruction, or the rapidly growing bush forces
the fabric apart. But the Indians, to be just to them,
are by no means parsimonious in regard to the erection
of these quaint structures, as much as £30 being some-
times expended upon the bizarre woodwork. In strange
contrast to the red man's gross neglect of the graves of
his forefathers was a small plain marble slab, which from
its bright cleanliness was tended with evident regularity,
commemorating the untimely death of a young English-
man from drowning while crossing a river up in the
Ingenika country ; it was erected by his sorrowing rela-
tives at home.

The types of humanity one sees in such a town as
Hazelton afford interesting studies to the psychologist.
The atmosphere is one of devil-may-care. Owing to the
mountains for miles around being rich in minerals, pro-
specting is the first and foremost occupation, every man

i)

.11

Is

a: o

r£-c

HAZELTON 273

you meet being ready to discuss some proposition with
you. This is gold — the yellow metal "strike " dominates —
that cx)pper, another silver, and so on through the whole
mineralogical gamut. One and all finds are "bully";
the claims offered for disposal are as plentiful as straw-
berries in summer. The two hotels were the magnets of
attraction, to which all and sundry flocked, especially the
prospectors as they streamed in. After being buried for
months in the mountains, moiling for mineral treasure,
they celebrate their return to a bustling colony where
drink is to be had by letting themselves go in the true
sans-gine manner. The hours of night are as busy and
humming as those of day, possibly more so, since these
rugged picturesque men of the wilds have a constitution
that needs no repose — at all events, for several days
on end. The pool room never closes its doors from one
year's end to the other, the clack, clack of cue and ball
being heard incessantly.

Hazelton has a strikingly clean bill of health. The
only malady, which breaks out with the virulence of an
epidemic each spring and autumn, coinciding vdth the
arrival of the mining prospectors and others from and
for the coast , is that produced by the imbibing of alcohol ,
not wisely but too well and continuously, which com-
plaint the medical faculty has designated delirium
tremens. Upon a dominating eminence east of the
town, where the full sweep of the bracing atmosphere is
experienced, is a modem acquisition which "hits" one
somewhat forcibly in such an out-of-the-way spot. This
is an excellent, spacious, well-equipped hospital, serving a
radius of 150 miles or more round, the finest institution
of its kind from Edmonton to the Pacific, from Van-
couver to the Klondike, able to cope with any situation
that may develop, for it has a first-rate physician and
nursing staff. In this hospital one section has achieved
more than passing fame — the "Moving Picture Ward."

It has nothing to do with cinematographic displays;

274 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

it earned its peculiar designation in this wise. One old
sourdough, a Scotsman, who came in from the moun-
tains, contracted the prospector's malady, and was
hurried to the hospftal. Shortly after his arrival a Hiber-
nian fellow-suiferer joined him. In due time, thanks to
the unremitting care bestowed, the twin souls were dis-
charged. Both followed strictly an abstemious life for a
week or two. Then the Scotsman, finding the temptation
too powerful, one day stole off unobserved to the bar-room.
He was on the point of swallowing hurriedly a glass of
the wine of his country when a raucous voice yelled :

" Sandy ! Sandy ! Phwat in th' nim of He'vin are
yedoin'?"

The Scotsman turned, half guilty, to find his ward-col-
league, who likevnse had been waiting an opportunity
to gratify his desires in secret with Erin's specialty.

"Eh, mon ! I dinna ken what you mean. Why
should I leave it alone? Answer me the noo ! "

"Be jabers! if ye don't dhrop it at once — at once,
Sandy — ye'll be a-seein' th' mavin' picthures up on th*
hill agen as ye did a month agp ! "

Though Hazelton has been the portal to the Bulkley
Valley through which a long-drawn-out stream of settlers
has trickled, other agrarian country in the vicinity has
attracted considerable attention of late. Winding away
north of the river is another amazingly fertile belt, the
Kispiox Valley, extending over 100,000 acres, of which
20,000 have been reserved for pre-emption, and here the
prospects of success are just as rosy as south of the river.
The railway is planned to cut through the heart of this
depression in its rush to Dawson City, linking with the
main line near Hazelton, but this enterprise must be
delayed until the steel channel between Pacific and
Atlantic is open. The Kispiox territory, however, is
already in touch with the town by means of a first-class
wagon road. If the results achieved by the Indians up
Kispiox way, with their primitive methods, offer any

HAZELTON 275

cnterion, then this northern valley has indeed a bright
future from the settlement point of view.

Energetic efforts are being made to introduce British
settlers to these richly productive valleys. An admirable
colonisation scheme, formulated by Mr. J. Norton
Griflfiths, M.P., has for its object the reservation of
30,000 acres in the Nechaco, Bulkley, and Kispiox valleys
for the practical farmer of the homeland who aspires to
woo wealth and fortune from British Columbia's ripened
soil. But it is as well to repeat that only the right man
can succeed. New British Columbia holds out no
chances for the faint-hearted, the hesitating, or the man
who does things by halves. On the contrary, it will break
and crush him. The settler must pull hard against the
collar for quite three years. Nature rules with a stern
sway, and he must be prepared to pay her toll if he would
gain her treasures, be they mineral or agricultural. Yet,
despite the grim outlook, with land ranging in price from
£3 to £5 an acre — except those stretches reserved for
pre-emption at 4s. an acre, entailing compliance wdth
certain laws — it is easily feasible to get a return of any-
thing from £10 per acre upwards, and to prove up to the
hilt the truth of the dictum of Mr. J. J. Hill, the veteran
railway magnate, who knows this wild western land as do
few other men, that "one good crop pays for the land
more than three times over."

Although farming and mining are at the moment the
most powerful loadstones, there are also chances for cer-
tain branches of the professions. The veterinary surgeon
is a personality rarely seen, though much in request.
The outbreak of an obscure disease among stock, or the
occurrence of accident, means more to the settler than
can be easily understood. There are openings, too, for
enterprising medical men. A young man who has just
graduated in medicine could not obtain a better field for
his activities than among the little colonies in the wilds,
where he has unique opportunities of displaying his skill.

27b THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

I was accompanied to Vancouver by a brilliant young
doctor who had had experiences which give a vivid idea
of what practising in the bush means. He received an
urgent call into the wilds of the Kispiox Valley to a
patient some fifty miles away. This in the middle of
winter, with the thermometer marking about 60 degrees
(Fahr.) of frost. He started ofE on snow-shoes, about
six in the morning, with a dog-train carrying his stock-in-
trade. By dint of tremendous effort, running behind
his sleigh, he contrived to make thirty-five miles in
fifteen hours, camping that night, dead tired, at nine
o'clock. On another occasion he was called into the
Bulkley Valley to bring a young British Columbian into
the world. This entailed a hard ride of about 75 miles
— the longest distance he had ever covered to attend a
case — and it was covered in a day and a half, with one
change of horses en route. He was dog-weary by the
time he gained his patient's home, but a night's rest re-
stored his energies, and he was enabled to make the
return jaunt somewhat more easily.

But the pay is good and prompt. Four shillings a
mile is the generally accepted schedule for travelling out
and home, the fee for the operation or attention depend-
ing upon the nature of the case. For a maternity case
£10 is charged, in addition to the mileage, and this is
increased should a prolonged stay at the patient's home
be involved. To increase the population of the Bulkley
Valley by one in the above case cost the father, in doctor's
fees, a matter of £40 — and the practitioner makes but
one visit. My medical friend was emphatic in his state-
ment that in one of these rising New British Columbian
towns a young doctor could look forward to an annual
income commencing with £400 or £600, steadily and
persistently increasing as the town develops and the sur-
rounding country is opened up. Accidents and births are
two factors in life which cannot be avoided, and they offer
a rich harvest to the medical man in a bush country.

CHAPTEE XXIV
Down the Treacherous Skeena

A Stream that haa to be " Juggled " — A Steamboat Captain's PhUosophy
— A Zigzagging Channel — The " Hornets' Nest " — Fruit-growing
— Among Totem Poles — Antimaul — ^The " Hard Scrubble " — The
Kitselas Caiion — How the Mount Boyal waa Lost — A Halt for the
Night.

"We don't navigate this river; we juggle our way down
itl"

The bronzed captain standing on the bridge gave a
grin, and nodded his head significantly towards the water-
way boiling and rushing at our feet.

"And if you don't do the trick neatly, what then? "
"Oh ! we just go to the bottom, that's all. We man-
age as a rule to plump her nose into the bank to give the
passengers a chance to get off."

"What happens to you if you lose the boat? "
"They just give us another in double-quick time. We
have no Board of Trade inquiries out here. What's the
use? No one has a chart of the river; it never runs two
days alike ; captains are few and far between. If you
lose the boat it's just hard luck. That's all there is
to it ! "

Such is a Skeena Kiver steamboat captain's happy-go-
lucky philosophy. It is typical of those who have to steer
their way up and down this fiercely moving channel of
water. These men have to learn from experience where
the innumerable dangers lurk unseen, and knowledge of
the position of a great many rocks has been gained in the
Irish pilot's manner, by scraping the boat's hull over
them, generally with no benefit to the boat ! Number-

277

278 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

less boats have gone down. Why, in one year the whole
traffic between Hazelton and the coast was tied up, just
because every vessel had hit hard luck, and was either
a rusting shattered hulk at the bottom or lying wrecked
on the bank. The Indian canoe was for months the only
available vehicle of transport.

It is 180 miles from Hazelton to Prince Rupert, and
sixty miles of this is tide-water. In the first 120 miles the
water drops 750 ft ! This will give some idea of its
velocity, which at places is awful. When in full flood
here and there, especially at Kitselas Canon, the river is
absolutely unnavigable.

We soon came to close grips with the foe. We had
cast off the last rope, and the speeding waters in mad
glee picked up our little vessel and hurried her along
viciously. On each side the river bubbled and frothed,
with fringes of combing foam indicating the presence of
sharp rocks just below the surface, ready to give a savage
snap at the boat if she ventured too close. The cap-
tain's telegraph rang out continuously ; the engineer never
left his station for an instant. Clangs followed so hard
on one another that the wonder was the instructions could
be interpreted correctly, and without the slightest hesita-
tion, by the engineer.

The first twenty miles is one continuous excitement,
the navigable channel being extremely narrow. More-
over, the bends and twists which the river takes are ex-
tremely sharp, so much so that the vessel cannot be
driven round in a straightforward manner, but has to
be warped or zig-zagged round the hairpin bend, first
moving forwards, then backwards, then sideways, now
drifting a little until the nose is brought into the channel
and it is possible to strike ahead. The captain has to be
ready to combat any movement of the boat. Where the
rocks below him are, Heaven alone knows; he does not,
until he pulls up against one with a sharp thud and an
ear-splitting tear, like the rending of a piece of linen,

i

DOWN THE TREACHEROUS SKEENA 279

which tells him that a few feet of his steel shell have been
torn away.

In this upper stretch the worst place is the "Hornets'
Nest." Certainly no yellow-jackets' home was ever ready
to let drive fiercer jabs with stings against an interloper
than are the rocks here. The surface is merely an expanse
of short, choppy, milky waves tumbling and fussing in all
directions. Progress is slow, the steamer passing through
weird contortions to steer clear of this, that, and some-
thing else. It is a fortunate circumstance for the pas-
sengers that these boats are of shallow draught, for often
it is only a matter of an inch or two between a granite
tooth and the bottom of the boat , more particularly so late
in the year as this, when the water is very low. Two
seasons ago one boat was pulling warily up hand over
hand by means of the line when there was a jar and a
scrape. Half the hull had gone, and the captain just
managed to get the cripple beached. Another craft,
lower down, heard of her sister's fate, and hurried to her
assistance. But she had not gone far when there was
another greedy snap and shiver. Her captain had to
make a quick turn for the bank. Both lay on the mud
within a few feet of each other all the winter, showing
their gaping wounds, until the season broke and a third
vessel came up stream with a gang of repairers aboard.
They strapped up the injuries temporarily, and towed the
disabled craft down to Prince Rupert, where they were
propped on the slips and equipped with new hulls. Soon
both were wrestling with the river once more, but just a
short while before our journey one had got trapped again.
On the Skeena hull-patching is one of the busiest and
most regular of occupations.

It took us more than an hour to thread the "Hornets'
Nest." Curious to relate, the old-timers who travel up
this river to reach the interior in the spring, and come
down in the autumn, have the greatest dread of this
waterway. "Give me a week in a blinding snowstorm

280 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

on the lonely trail to an hour on this blarmed streak of
hell," growled one hardy pioneer; "it gives me fits every
time I see it."

It is a lonely journey. The country on either side is
for the most part still in its primeval condition, though
here and there settlers are making valiant efforts to strip
the ground for vegetables and fruit. But it is a heart-
rending task for the most part. Tall, gaunt trees run
down from the timber-line to the water's edge, many over-
hanging until their branches lap its glacial surface, for
their roots have been laid bare by the greedy water which
has devoured the soft soil. When the next flood comes
these bowing giants will be caught in its insatiable em-
brace and borne down on its tumultuous bosom to be
cast on a sand-bar. Time after time we slipped by a
naked stripped carcase of a huge cotton wood, fir, or cedar,
left high and dry on a strip of desolation to rot in the
sun. There is one good point about the Skeena. It
runs too swiftly to enable timber jams to be piled up, or
to permit snags to lurk unseen in the navigable channel
to trap the unsuspecting captain in an unlucky moment
— at all events, so far as the upper reaches are con-
cerned, though down nearer the mouth, where the pace
eases up a bit, a "snagger" is seen searching for and
destroying these menaces to travel.

Now and again the river emerges into a flat stretch
of arable country, for the most part densely clothed with
thick undergrowth, or passes between high benches,
where the husbandman can secure a footing to practise
his art to a'dvantage. It appears as though fruit-growing
will develop into the most important phase of agriculture
down this waterway, since the trees flourish very pro-
misingly. Yet a few years ago the idea of raising tree
fruits so far north was laughed to scorn. But the de-
tractors are being more than discomfited. The soil is a
«andy loam with a subsoil of gravel or clay, according to
whether it is high- or low-lying land. These men who are

A SHACK AMONG THE TREES ON THE SKEENA

RIVER.

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DOWN THE TREACHEROUS SKEENA 281

routing the "calamity howlers" are growers who have
prospered well down south in the Kootenay and Okana-
gan territories, the famous orchard districts of British
Columbia. They have cleared tracts fringing the river,
and put them under apple, pear, plum, cherry, and
prunes. The results they report are fully justifying their
enterprise, and they regard the Skeena Eiver country as
being as well suited to this culture as that to the south, if
not better. Emphatically they declared the fruit to be
superior in quality. But they have not yet been in the
country a sufficiently long period to bring the orchards
to their full power of productivity, so that the results of
their endeavours are not quite conclusive. "But give
me another three years," exclaimed one enthusiast, "to
bring my trees to their full bearing stage, and then I
calculate I'll have the pesky southerners guessing some ! "

We had not been going more than about three hours
when there was a pull-up. More fuel was required, for
the engines of these river boats are extremely hungry,
and eat wood as voraciously as a child devours chocolate.
Every member of the crew was soon busy hurling clouts
of wood, about three feet in length, aboard, and the
engineer was stacking them up around his furnace in a
barricade. Indians and white men make a comfortable
income in felling and splitting up this fuel, selling it at
10s. a cord. Going upstream, the furnaces demolish five
cords an hour, while downstream two cords less suffice
for the same time. Seeing that there are about eight
boats plying regularly on this waterway, it will be seen
that the consumption of wood is considerable.

The Skeena might be called very appropriately the
Totem Pole River, for from end to end it threads Indian
settlements, where these symbols are in abundance. Some
of them are very curious works of art , with their fearsome
carvings from base to top, many decorated in the most
contrastingly vivid hues, and capped by some strange
device, such as a bear, an eagle, a fox, a salmon. At

282 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

places they are so thick as to resemble in the distance the
remains of a burnt-out forest. Each frowns over the
doorway of the tumbUng shack behind, and when read
affords an interesting history of the family to which it
belongs. The cotton wood tree is that generally employed
for this illustrated biography, since it is soft and lends
itself to carving. A short time before we arrived at
Hazelton there had been a complete exodus of the natives
to the Kispiox Valley, where the estabhshment of a new
totem pole was to be celebrated, and the Indians let
themselves go for a week in high jinks in honour of the
event. On the other hand, the fall of a totem pole,
through decomposition of the base, passes without the
slightest sign of an outbreak of exuberance. It is lopped
into chunks of firewood as a rule, and that is its un-
dignified end.

Antimaul was our first stop. A white flag was waved
frantically on the bank to show that there were mails
or passengers to pick up. The method in which these
craft heave to is interesting. They speed by the point
whence the signal proceeds as if in defiance of its
summons. Then the telegraph rings out sonorously, the
engines slow down, and the boat gracefully wheels round
to plough upstream to the stopping place. The sudden
reversal gives one a vivid sense of the force of the current.
One minute you are tearing along at some fourteen miles
an hour; the next you are puffing laboriously upstream
at a snail's pace, the engines belching out for all they are
worth to give the paddles the mastery over the downward
rush. There is no jetty, not even a jerry-built timber
landing-stage. The boat raps into the bank, an Indian
jumps ashore with a rope which he deftly snubs round a
tree, a plank is run out, the passenger struggles aboard,
the plank is withdrawn, the hawser let go, and off again.
The paddles have scarcely ceased revolving before they
are called into service again.

Another part of the river where vessels often get

4

DOWN THE TREACHEROUS SKEENA 283

mauled badly is the "Hard Scrubble." The river here is
about 300 ft. wide, and it looks perfectly safe to steam
straight ahead. Not a trace of froth gives warning of
any danger. The steamer suddenly changes its course
and draws perilously near the rock cliff on one bank.
You wonder why? Eight across that waterway, but a
few inches below its surface, so calm and still, runs a
solid bar which can only be avoided through a very narrow
twisting passage at one end. It is just wide enough to
carry the steamer, and no more. But the captain cannot
steam right ahead, since there is no space in which to
swing round. He drives the craft's nose into the caul-
ciron, and just manages to squeeze his stern into the same
enclosure. He then backs gently until only inches
separate the revolving stem wheels from the foot of the
cliff, crawls forward a foot or so, backs again the same
distance, and so on for a few minutes, the bow being
brought round a trifle with each manoeuvre, until at
last there is a straight drive ahead. Once the engines
refused to obey the captain's telegraphic orders. There
was a grating, a ripping, and a violent tremble from stem
to stem. The wheels had caught on a rock and were
chewing off chunks in their revolutions as well as im-
perilling their own structure.

But the spot most feared on the whole river is
the Kitselas Canon — the Scylla and Charybdis of the
Skeena. We gained intelligence of our approach there-
to by the officer coming round and inquiring if anyone
desired to get off to avoid its passage. This canon has
captured so many vessels, and has built up such a death-
roll, that many people prefer to land at the upper en-
trance and walk across country over the well-beaten port-
age to Kitselas. Sometimes the boats cannot go through
at all — to make the attempt would be certain death. At
other times you have to make the portage whether you
so desire or not, as the captain will not undertake the
responsibility of carrying you through.

284 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

Above the cafion the river is about 160 yards wide,
flowing through undulating country backed by the moun-
tains. Then a spur from the range makes a dart and
cuts across the waterway, narrowing it down to a mere
ditch, and littering its bottom with sharp rocks. Such a
sudden contraction of the river means, of course, a sudden
increase in speed. There are in reality two vents, one
about 60 ft. in width, the other some 30 ft. across, but
just below they merge into one. The speed of the water
is terrific. " Sometimes it rattles through here at about
twenty miles an hour," remarks one of the crew. You
verily believe it, for in its calmest periods, such as this,
it is nothing but a whirlpool. On one side the rocks
sheer up, at first for about 15 ft. in ragged masses, and
then give way to a perpendicular wall fully 100 ft. high.

The passage of this bad piece of water is a master-
piece of navigation. The boat can notch a steady ten or
twelve miles an hour when driven hard. The prow
swings round into the jaws bristling with black teeth,
which appear ready to crush the frail humanity-laden
shell. You are scarcely moving, when there is a sudden
spurt — the current has clutched the steamer. But the
captain is alert. Directly he feels its maw closing in on
his craft the telegraph breaks out frantically. The en-
gineer in an instant reverses, and we are going down-
stream with the wheels revolving at breaking-point
astern. When the wheels get up full spin the steamer
slows down and stops, held in check by a few inches of
steel and harnessed steam. Everything is strained to
the utmost; if anything gives, "thar's goin' to be an un-
rehearsed somersault into hell," as one of the sourdoughs
aboard growled. The engines hold the steamer, though
she trembles like a leaf. A bend has to be negotiated,
and the captain throws his rudder hard over to bring
the boat athwart the current.

"This is whar we get th' shivers," the old sourdough
went on. The water was piling up on the upper side

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DOWN THE TREACHEROUS SKEENA 285

of the boat and surging round each end, for now there
was only a narrow fissure between each end of the boat
and the rocks, where it could make its tortuous way.
Slowly we came right round, almost broadside on.

"This is whar th' Mount Royal got caught," pointed
out the sourdough. "If th' damned old Skeena swings
us round like it did her, and banks us up against each
side blockin' thar river, well, I guess we won't all get
ashore." Every man on board breathlessly watched the
manoeuvre. The Mount Royal was performing the same
evolution when the captain, evidently misjudging the
force of water, had the boat jerked out of his hands,
jammed between the rocky walls, and smashed in two
before he knew what had happened. "Lost twenty-
seven people over that deal," the sourdough went on;
"but the blarmed old engineer pushed his head up
through th' bottom as she went over. . . Git yar checks
ready, boys. All ready to hand in? Oh, we've cheated
the old she-devil again 1 " he exclaimed as the telegraph
rang out, the boat came round, cleared the bend and
bounced through the rest of the gorge, with sundry knocks
against the walls, at full speed.

At the lower portal of the canon is a gauge. When
it registers a rise of twelve inches in the water at that
point, it means that an additional four and a half feet
have been piled up at the higher entrance. And the
variation may take place in a few hours, for the Skeena,
fed by melting snows from the mountains far to the north ,
is a fickle river. Its behaviour is entirely governed by
the strength of the sun during the day and by the depth
of the snowfall at night !

Some distance below Kitselas the boat gave vent to a
long-drawn-out whoop. Darkness was settling upon the
water, and as the river is too dangerous to navigate at
night, we pulled into the bank and were hitched up until
the following dawn.

CHAPTER XXV
Through the Cascades to the Sea

The Kitsumkalim Valley — Experimental Fruit-growing — Majestic Mountain
Scenery — The Grand Trunk Pacific — A Dead-Level Track in the
Mountains — The Skeena Salmon Fishery — The Best Salmon Shipped
to England — Port Essington.

The point where we landed is in the Kitsumkalim Valley
— a nook in the Cascades which has aroused considerable
attention, among agriculturists and horticulturists espe-
cially, for it has proved as astonishing a prize-packet as
the Bulkley Valley, it being possible to raise fruit in the
mountain cleft as prolifically as wheat can be grown on
the prairie.

The bold pioneers who penetrated this country and
stretched their enterprise far up and down the valleys
extending at right angles to the Skeena River, and who,
notwithstanding the natural obstacles in their way,
essayed to clear little spaces here and there to test the
fruit-growing possibilities of the soil, were in a worse
plight than the moiler for gold on the scarred mountain
sides. They had to nurse their tender charges day and
night, since, although the soil, climate, and prevailing
temperature were right, the cold from the silent outer
ring of frost-gripped country was sufficient to nullify
completely all the favourable influences.

The fruit-growers looked forward anxiously to the re-
sult of their first year's handiwork. Their pluck was
rewarded, and the twelve months' growth of the trees
convinced them that their opinions concerning the coun-
try were sound. They enlarged their plantations, forcing
the encircling nipping wall of forest farther back, and as

2S6

THROUGH THE CASCADES TO THE SEA 287

they did so they found that the trees first planted appre-
ciated the enlargement of their breathing space. They
came into flower, the blossoms set, the fruit grew and
matured, and, what was more, ripened. When the first
fruit from the Kitsumkalim Valley reached the towns and
cities farther south the people greeted it with mixed feel-
ings. Such well-shaped, luscious, and fleshy produce
grown on the banks of the Skeena, ravaged by summer
frosts? They could not be fooled with such a story.

The pioneers, who had provided the surprise, did not
waste words and time on useless argument. They have
not the gift of persuasive conversation, as I found for
myself, but they can work like Trojans. They were a
trifle nettled at the reception awarded to the outcome of
their efforts, but they were not going to be turned down
except by Nature. But down south all were not deriders ;
a few, more adventurous than the rest, piked up to the
Skeena to try their hand in the same field. It was a
mere trickle of settlers at first, but the stream is now
commencing to swell in volume as access to the country is
being facilitated by the completion of the railw^ay, which
has thrust its arm a hundred miles up the river from
the coast and plants you right in the heart of this
expanse. Cherries, plums, pears, apples and prunes are
being planted on all sides. And every new settler is
hailed with enthusiasm by those already in possession.
Each arrival signifies the clearing of a little more forest,
and the occupation of another chunk of the hundred thou-
sand acres of arable land nestling in the Kitsumkalim
Valley, or its extension south of the Eiver Skeena along
the Lakelse Lake, where twice or thrice as much land
is available. But years must elapse before the hemlock,
spruce, cedar, fir, and cotton wood are swept away to
make room for trees laden with juicy fruits.

One of the pioneers described the situation very neatly
when he said, "Every settler who comes in here sends
all opr chances up ten points. To us it has been a mere

288 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

gamble. We came in when the country was in the grasp
of the ' bears,' as represented by the knockers. Now
the ' bulls ' are having a turn, for we optimists are get-
ting a run on the country. They laughed at our work
at first ; and when we showed them our apples, pears, and
such like, they reckoned we were putting it up on them.
But before we've finished we are going to raise grapes and
peaches in the open air. We may be on line 55 ; but
that line has shown wonders before, and it has not finished
yet!"

Though the idea of growing these peaches and grapes
in the open is highly attractive, it may not be feasible.
Still, it would be rash to assert point-blank that it cannot
be done, for Canada has made so many pessimistic pro-
phets look foolish.

In order to ascertain conclusively just what are and
what are not the possibilities of extensive fruit culture
in these valleys amidst the Cascades, an experimental
farm of 400 acres has been acquired on the Skeena in the
neighbourhood of Kitwanger, and 1,500 trees have been
planted. In all probability experiment and scientific re-
search will result in the evolution of fruits especially
suited to such a country as this, where they will be just as
much at home and as prolific as are the trees raised down
on the Boundary or around Niagara.

Our little craft sheered off as the first rays of dawn
tinted the eastern sky. Now all was steady thumping
along at full pelt, all perils, except snags, having been
left behind. Tide-water was only some thirty miles or
so distant, and the captain was able to take advantage of
the river's helter-skeltering swing to the utmost extent.
In the course of an hour or so all signs of settlement
slipped by, for we were entering the mountain range
where the main rib of the Cascades extends as an un-
broken barrier from Alaska to Mexico, with rifts here
and there to let such waterways as the Skeena foam
their way to the sea.

i— ' icCC

THROUGH THE CASCADES TO THE SEA 289

The river winds, twists, and writhes for mile after
mile through some of the most majestic mountain
scenery that America can offer. From one end to the
other this range is spectacular, but here a far more im-
pressive idea of its massive grandeur is unfolded. The
huge humps rise sheer out of the water on both sides,
running up at angles of forty-five to ninety degrees, be-
decked in a rich green mantle right up to the line in the
clouds where vegetation can no longer exist. So far as
you can see you are in a defile, the path through which
is the tumbling river. Only once does the barrier on
the river side break, and the cleavage is picturesquely
designated "The Hole-in-the-Wall."

The verdure retains its vivid brilliance, and the pre-
vailing expanse is free from those jagged wounds of black
and brown inflicted by the fire fiend, because the flames
must be greedy and ravenous indeed to lick up vegetation
which is soddened with 120 inches of rainfall during the
year. Among other things, the Skeena can give some
idea of what rainfall is. When the heavens open in this
wet belt, they alone know when they are going to close
again. A two or three weeks' steady downpour without
a single lift-up is not uncommon, and, what is more, it
is none of your half-hearted sprinkles, but a deluge from
which nothing but a sbu'-wester can protect you, and that
not for long, for it soon gets wet through. It is the same
the whole way down the coast ; and in the vicinity of
Vancouver a stock of waterproofs is a safer investment
than real estate. The rainfall on the Skeena, however,
is no heavier than that on the Fraser at its estuary,
though it appears to be so.

Yet the coast does not get it both ways. If there is
a great deal of rain there is very little snow. Conse-
quently this region is pleasant during the winter, the
severity of the season being toned down agreeably by the
warm chinooks blowing off the Pacific.

When we struck tide-water we were in the heart of

290 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

the Cascades. Amid the banks of clouds rolling at vari-
ous levels overhead and creeping over the crests could
be descried dizzy peaks with their soft, sparkling, ever-
lasting turbans enwrapping their weather-beaten heads.
Down the steep flanks tumbled gleaming silvery streams
to the accompaniment of a musical rhythmic murmur.
The river journey between Kitselas and Prince Rupert
will be one that will appeal strongly to the sight-seeing
visitor anxious to gaze upon Nature in her wildest and
grandest moods, for it must be confessed that, as a moving
picture in colours, the sail up the turbid torrent of
the Cascades for one hundred miles is difficult to excel
in the northern hemisphere — when the elements are
propitious.

Winding along the bases of the precipitous bluffs,
following the contour of the river, stretches the twin
ribbon of steel which is to carry the Grand Trunk Pacific
down to the coast. It is a marvellous piece of railway
construction; for at least sixty miles, and that through
the most difficult stretch of the mountains, the engineer
has realised the greatest ambition of the railway manager,
an absolutely dead-level track. The achievement is
remarkable inasmuch as in no other part of the continent
north of the equator has such a result been accomplished
hitherto in connection with this formidable mountain
barrier. Indeed, a few hundred miles farther south the
other great transcontinental railways appear to have
been engaged in a healthy rivalry in cloud-scratching
effort. The victor in this competition contrives to scrape
over the mountains by a ledge at a height of some
8,000 ft. above the Pacific. On the other hand, this new
railway in the north is content with a level of some
ten feet above the ocean. To accomplish this end, tens
of thousands of pounds have been poured out. Dynamite
has been used with a lavish hand , and the amount of rock
it has ejected forcibly from this point to be dumped in
that runs into millions of tons.

< 3

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[— . a
a^ £

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THROUGH THE CASCADES TO THE SEA 291

On the whole of our run down the river from Hazelton,
the rock and sand hogs had been our companions, while
the solitude of the forest was rudely torn by the screech
of steam, the chink, chink of drills, the roar of explosives,
and the groaning of mountains in agony as the path for
the railway was being torn out foot by foot. We had
seen men with ropes tightly clinched round their waists,
clinging like flies to the precipitous rock faces, zealously
plying their drills, and then, when the cartridges had been
tamped home, hurriedly whisked through the air to the
ledges above. Once or twice the captain of the boat had
been pulled up sharply by the warning of a fluttering red
flag, and had treated the passengers aboard to the spec-
tacle of rock and smoke flying into the air with a long-
drawn-out bellow as the pent-up force of the blasting
agent burst its bonds.

As we drew nearer and nearer to the sea, the river
opened out until it was some three miles or so from bank
to bank. Signs of activity became more evident, ram-
bling shack-like buildings standing out against the back-
ground of foliage by the water's edge. These were the
salmon canneries, for the toll of fish levied from the
Skeena is tremendously heavy. The salmon fishery is
almost entirely in the hands of Orientals, and the scene
during the harvest is one of unwonted bustle. Time was
when the Fraser estuary was the largest salmon-fishing
ground on the Pacific coast, but this is so no longer.
The Skeena river has proved a richer field , and each suc-
ceeding year sees its importance expanding.

Hundreds of boats of every conceivable type are
pressed into the hunt, for the salmon swarm up the
river in myriads. The waterway is netted practically for
the whole of its width, and the fish are hauled in as fast
as boats can be brought up in which to dump them. The
fight is all on the fisherman's side, as the quarry are
jammed so tightly together ; those in the rear push so
hard against those in front that avoidance of capture

292 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

is impossible. But the law demands that the fish shall
be given their chance. For a spell of forty-eight hours
in every week the whole of the fleet must withdraw from
the field and allow the fish to have an uninterrupted run
up the waterway. It was salmon that had made their
way through during the armistice that we saw being
caught by the Indians at Moricetown.

As fast as they are netted the fish are hurried to the
canneries, gutted and dressed by machinery, cooked in
capacious steam boilers, canned in tins and dispatched
to all parts of the world. The season commences about
the 1st of April with the appearance of the spring salmon,
which run up to 90 lb. a-piece in weight. But the
harvest rises to its greatest height in the autumn. The
other edible types are the sock-eye, bright red in colour,
the cohoe, and the steel-head; the hump-back and dog
salmon are of little value. The primest fish of the whole
lot, however, is the steel-head, the taste of which is
denied to American and Canadian, inasmuch as every
one of these is shipped to England. The whole of this
fish is handled at Claxton, and the fishermen are tempted
to bring in any catches of this dainty they may effect
by the offer of a small bounty. The steel-head is not
canned, but is frozen entire, as taken from the boats and
scows, and in this condition shipped to the British
market. The Skeena salmon fishery is a respectable
source of revenue to the Government, inasmuch as the
canning estabHshments have to be licensed, a round
£60,000 having been collected in this way from the 1910
season .

The port for this prosperous industry is, or rather was,
Port Essington. It took its rise through the salmon
trade, but its glory has faded. Twenty miles distant a
new port has risen up— Prince Rupert— and trade has
migrated thereto owing to superior harbour and other
facilities. Port Essington has therefore drooped into a
semi-hibernating condition; has got into the ditch, and

THROUGH THE CASCADES TO THE SEA 293

will never be extricated again. The Hudson's Bay Com-
pany utilised it as their coast depot, where vessels dis-
charged their cargoes intended for the interior, while it
was the sea terminal of river traffic between Hazelton and
the coast. This trade has disappeared entirely now ;
from a terminal. Port Essington has drooped into a
port of call. The Hudson's Bay post was destroyed by
fire, and the new buildings were reared at Prince Eupert.
The end of our river journey was barely thirty miles
distant. We pulled out of the Skeena estuary, rounded
Digby Island, skirted Kaien Island, and were soon speed-
ing up one of the finest bays in the Pacific, at the ex-
treme end of which was growing rapidly what every
citizen optimistically regards as the "Liverpool of the
Pacific." At half-past four in the afternoon of September
20 the alligator steamboat bumped into the quay, was
made fast, and we put foot on the quay of Prince
Kupert.

CHAPTER XXVI
The "Liverpool of the Pacific"

Why Prince Rupert's Turn came so Late— A Reef that was not there —
The Pioneers— Evictions — Incorporation of the Town — A Pull all
together — How Fortunes are being made out of the Land — A Towti
in the Making — Buoyant Optimism — Port Arthur's Advantages —
Fisheries — Southward Bound.

The first thought that flies to one's mind as one treads
the timber wharf is, Why is this port so young? Look-
ing seawards, scanning the huge landlocked anchorage,
nearly ten miles in length, varying from three-quarters of
a mile to a mile and a half in width, with an entrance
4,000 ft. wide opening on the Pacific, with a depth of
water sufficient to float the largest ships, it appears
extraordinary that its advantages should have been over-
looked for so many years. Why, the shore drops down
so suddenly that there is from 30 to 38 ft. of water at
lowest tide alongside the landing-stage, while a stone's
throw from the quay side it runs down to well over one
hundred feet. The fact is that this magnificent harbour
was sidetracked merely through a hydrographic error.
The charts showed the bay rightly enough, and the lines
on paper only served to emphasise its dimensions. But
there, right in the fairway, was a huge submerged reef
or rock !

Now the projection of the Grand Trunk Pacific Rail-
way, with its severe stipulations concerning grades, de-
manded that a new vent on the Pacific coast should be
found. Every bay and indent north of Vancouver was
explored minutely, and this was the only one on the
coast that coincided with every requirement. But that

294

THE "LIVERPOOL OF THE PACIFIC*' 295

rock ! The survey vessel crawled round and round, the
sounding-line plumbed every foot of the bottom, but no
sign of a rock was found. It was not there ! It was in a
bay farther north. When the topographer committed
the discovery of that particular rock to paper he simply
put it in the wrong place, and it took many years to dis-
cover the error. But from this moment the future of
the new port was assured.

It was less than five years ago that the first white
men set their feet on this spot. They were a small party
under Mr. J, H. Pillsbury, and their task was the survey
and clearing of the waterside. It was a forbidding out-
look. When they drew inshore and stepped from their
boat there was an awful squelch, and their legs disap-
peared from sight. They were up to their thighs in
muskeg. Further immersion was impossible, as their
feet pulled up against solid rock. Huge trees as dense
as the jungle bowed down to the water's edge, the boughs
lapping the Pacific. They had to hack their way ashore,
fighting the scrub with the axe, and floundering in three
or four feet of bog. The axe work was terrific, for in
whichever direction they moved, trees from six to twenty-
four inches in thickness barred the way.

Their first task was the construction, with the crude
facilities at their command, of a little wharf, alongside
which small boats could pull up. In four years that jetty
grew from twenty feet or so to a quay measuring 1,400 ft.
from end to end ! Then the rough frontiersmen poured
in. They lopped down a few trees here and there and
promptly claimed ownership by squatting, ignoring the
fact that the railway and the Government, hand in hand,
were laying out the town, and that all ground at that
time was their property. The Canadian squatter is a
quaint personality. He lays claim to everything upon
which he can place his hand, and woe betide those who
dispute his action. Prince Kupert, however, never had
the opportunity to become a sink of iniquity, harbouring

296 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

the dregs of humanity, for as fast as the squatter settled
down he was pitched neck and crop olf, and though he
stormed and threatened, his vapourings fell on deaf ears. t
Many of these hardy old fellows, however, had come up '■i
just to take stock of the whole affair, pick what they
fancied, and, by holding possession, be in a better posi-
tion to bid successfully for the land when the sale of lots
came round. The out-and-out squatter, however, taken
on the whole , has been a thorn in the sides of the authori-
ties, though he always receives short shrift. Some were
in occupation at the time of my visit, and still living in
a tent in one of the principal streets, on lots which had
not been sold, in the hope that continuous occupation of
the site for a time would enable them to establish a valid
claim to its possession. The squatter is evicted, but in
a short time he returns and once more re-establishes his
canvas home. Occasionally there are stirring times in
Prince Rupert, but special powers exist for dealing with
the obstreperous. None of your suave diplomatic persua-
sion, but rough and ready conflict with the axe and
muscle. "If a man won't get out, then put him out," is
the law of the land.

But the feature that most impresses the tenderfoot is
the grim determination of these Rupertians. They are a
peculiar type of men, bent on one object — the up-building
of their city. They'll take no nonsense from anyone,
but they are ready to act on any suggestion for the
common weal. Each man is like the tooth of a cogwheel
in a machine — all work together. By such means they
have been able to convert muskeg and bush into a thriv-
ing, humming, prosperous colony of 5,000 people. Yet
their situation is not by any means rosy. They are 550
miles from the rest of the world. Every pound of sugar,
every pin, has to be brought up by boat from Vancouver.
Just before our arrival the town had been incorporated ;
in other words, it was left to its own devices, and was
responsible for its own future. One and all realised the

THE "LIVERPOOL OF THE PACIFIC" 297

significance of this independence, and were going ahead
in the firm conviction that Prince Eupert was to be the
greatest port on earth.

Certainly there are no flies on these men. They are as
a restless sea of humanity, toiling both day and night,
striving earnestly to put things ship-shape by the time the
two arms of the railway meet and the channel is clear
for the cry "All aboard for Winnipeg , Toronto, Montreal,
and Halifax," heralding the dispatch of the Trans-Con-
tinental, Limited, on its 3,556 miles through journey. As
to flies, it is worth mentioning that insect pests of any
description are quite foreign to the town. A prominent
citizen informed me that the sight of a fly of any kind in
the city limits would precipitate a rush to view the curi-
osity. A fly-proof town is certainly unique, especially
as other parts of the Dominion are having fierce fights
with the relentless mosquito.

Large fortunes have been piled up at Prince Eupert.
The rush for lots when the auction sale was held was
more furious than a stampede to a region where streaks
of yellow metal have been found. The townsite belongs
to the railway company and the Government, the former
having 480 and the latter 160 acres in each section of one
square mile. The lots were put up for sale in May and
June, 1909, and so great was the boom that over d6300,000
was realised. This was, as it were, a preliminary canter,
being held for the express purpose of getting some idea
of the worth of the lots and fixing prices. The lots were
selected from blocks here and there throughout the town.
Moreover, only a certain stretch of land was offered for
disposal in this manner.

Prices fluctuated at this initial sale to a remarkable
degree, the cheapest plot of land going for £6, while high-
water mark was reached with £3,300 for a corner site.
These transactions were to a great extent in the nature of
a gamble. The pioneer Canadian town-builder is a bom
speculator, and this was a unique opportunity, so that he

298 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

gave full rein to his foible. And, judged on the whole, it
paid him pretty well. The authorities did not throw more
on the market than could be readily absorbed. Not a few
of these first plungers made such large profits out of their
holdings by subsequent sales as to enable them to erect
blocks of buildings, and many a townsman informed me
that he came up into the country but three years ago with
only a few hundred dollars in his pocket, which he laid
out carefully in lots, and could now point to large blocks
of real estate bringing him in a steady income of 20 per
cent, on his outlay.

Mr. David M. Hays, who conducted the sales of the
land, related several interesting incidents of money being
made quickly. For several days after he returned from
Vancouver, where the sale was conducted, his office was
besieged with crowds of speculators desirous of participat-
ing in the boom. The staff was kept going at tip-top
pressure, and the buyers poured through the office in a
constant stream. The waiting queue at one time was
over one hundred yards long, and one man who owned
property in the port told me that he had to wait outside
the office for two days before he secured it.

"I recall one case to mind where money was made
quickly," related Mr. Hays. "I had disposed of all the
lots in my hands and was returning to Prince Rupert.
There was a young fellow on the boat who was very keen
upon making a splash. Could I help him? Well, I had
no more lots to sell, and was just wondering what could
be done when I received a letter saying that twenty-two
lots had been thrown back suddenly on the market, and
asking me to dispose of them.

"I went up to the young man aboard. ' See here!
take my advice and buy Prince Rupert lots. I have
twenty-two lots in my pocket that have not been sold yet.
Buy some of these ; buy them all ! '

" ' But I haven't sufficient money ! *

" ' How much have you ? '

THE "LIVERPOOL OF THE PACIFIC" 299

'*' Just 195 dollars.'

Well, look here, we'll go halves in the deal. We'll
put up 192J dollars each, that'll make the quarter cash
down payment, and the balance can be paid in one, two,
or three years. Are you game? '

"We clinched the matter there and then, taking up
the whole of the twenty-two unsold lots. Within three
months I remitted to that young fellow, in cash, his
original outlay of 192 J dollars, together with an addi-
tional 900 dollars representing the profits from the sale
of the lots up to that time. Thus in three months he
was richer by about £180, and in addition to this he still
holds lots worth £600, fbr he has declined that sum
already. So his original investment of about £18 10s.
paid him very well.

"Another man came up from New Mexico and pur-
chased a couple of lots, for which he paid £200. To-day
they are worth £1,000. Just as he was boarding the
steamer I caught him. ' Say, can you spare any more
cash ? I have a good chance on my hands ! '

"* Well, I can only manage £15.'

" ' Good ! Take over these,' and 1 told him what I
had in my hand.

"He took my word, and this was what I got a few
weeks ago from bim," extending his hand. This was a
photograph of the cheque the plunger had received, re-
presenting a profit of £107 on his original £15 invest-
ment, and that within five months.

Fortunes have thus been made out of land within
weeks. Lots which under the hammer fetched £2,120
have since netted £6,000, and land which then was sold
for £3,300 has since changed hands for £8,000. The
largest investor at the sale was an Austrian, who bought
up in a wholesale manner, paying sums ranging fiiom
£77 k) £1,540.

The manner in which values have soared is amazing,
and the trend is still upward. One speculator bought

300 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

a corner block measuring 50 feet wide by 100 feet deep
fronting two streets. He gave less than £100 for it, held
on for a short while, and when a man came along and
offered £4,400 for it he refused. Another lucky purchaser
paid £1,200 for a plot and ultimately parted with it for
£2,800. In one case a plot for which £1,200 was paid
was sold twice within seven days, the second time realis-
ing £2,000. These transactions, it must be remembered,
have taken place within a town which is not yet five
years old , and where no jostling has occuiTed yet for elbow
room. One Englishman, I was informed, had startled
the community by his audacity. He had strolled into
the town, sized up the situation, and had then departed
as unostentatiously as he had arrived, after having bought
up lots to the tune of £20,000. It seemed an insane
manner of dealing even in booming land, but he had not
shaken the dust from his feet by more than twelve hours
when some of his property was commanding sufficient to
show a profit of 14 per cent., and was still going up.
Though it is the man who buys under the hammer who
stands the chance of clearing up the largest profits on
land sale transactions, yet to-day, if plots are purchased
carefully, the investor can rely for a certainty upon a
profit varying from 25 to 1,000 per cent., and that within
a very short time.

Property rises and falls in a new Canadian town more
startlingly than a thermometer plunged alternately into
ice and boiling water. It takes a new community some
time to settle down. To be plumped from a far-off country
into a town like Prince Ixupert in the moulding stage, is
akin to buying a house when but the bare walls have been
raised. There is only the carcase and its general lay-out
to assist you in judging. Prince Rupert is only just enter-
ing on the masonry stage. When I was there it had no
streets in the civilised sense of the word. They were
there, it is true, in the form of timber side-walks and
staging on stilts, over which all traffic passed. And a

THE "LIVERPOOL OF THE PACIFIC*' 301

peep beneath these wooden thoroughfares was sufficient
to give a man from the east, bent on real estate invest-
ment, a jarring shock. Nothing but solid rock, covered
with a few inches of peaty moss to which tree stumps were
still clinging, and as ragged on the surface as a mountain
range. It did not require an experienced eye to see that
street building would prove expensive. Yet things are
going ahead just the same as if the town were built on
level land and a gravelly soil. These townsfolk think
nothing of tearing out a few thousand tons of rock to
make a causeway. With such a solid foundation, the
city, when built in masonry, will require an earthquake
to move it.

Everything, I found, was in a state of chaos. Prince
Rupert, as befits the latest port, was being laid out in
accordance with the most modern ideas. The garden-
city planner was in possession, and he was laying out
the town in a manner commensurate with its aesthetic
background. Streets were being ruthlessly torn up to
make way for a modern sewerage system, and easy
gradients were being provided to secure comfortable access
from point to point, for the town is built on a hump.
Down by the waterside the mountain shoulder was being
blown away in huge chunks to provide a perfectly level
plane upon which a magnificent terminal station could
be erected, together with hotels, sidings, and all the
paraphernalia of a modern port handling merchandise
from and for all parts of the world. The splitting roar of
dynamite was heard from early morn to late at night.

In the early days they were exciting times. The hub
of activity was the point on the water-front where vessels
called and unloaded. The quay space was being levelled.
The shacks were of timber with shingled roofs. Suddenly
there would be heard the strident blast of a siren.
Instantly one and all hustled away from the water's edge
to a respectful distance, leaving all buildings vacant.
Workmen would be seen tumbling across the ragged

302 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

ground as a second blast rang out. A few seconds of
intense silence. Then a violent shivering under foot, and
a tremendous bellow, accompanied by plumes of smoke,
dust and debris rising gracefully into the air. All eyes
were turned skywards, and dodging rocks as they de-
scended was an exhilarating pastime. There would be
heard the sharp crack, crack, crack as of sniping rifles, as
a few pounds of disintegrated rock swooped down into the
streets and riddled the shacks. When the citizens re-
turned they found the roofs of their establishments per-
forated like a pepper-box. Out in the yard were stacks of
shingles, and soon one and all were aloft their buildings
putting the damage aright. Eiddled houses and shops
were the penalties exacted for being in a hurry to settle
down in the new hub of commerce before the fabric had
been fashioned. Strange to say, never a man was killed.
One or two received contusions from falling missiles, and
that was all.

The buoyant optimism of these 5,000 people is aston-
ishing. You ask them what they think their future will
be when they are within railway touch of the great wheat
fields of the prairies, the manufacturing cities of Eastern
Canada, and the Atlantic seaboard. Their reply is charac-
teristic, though you, being uninitiated in Canadian ways
and methods, may consider it somewhat conceited. One
and all are confident that Prince Eupert is going to be
the " roarin'est, busiest city on the coast. Reckon we'll
have 'Frisco, Seattle, and Vancouver guessin' when we
get a fair start," they chuckle.

They have every reason to be jubilant concerning
their prospects. In the first place, they are 550 miles
nearer Yokohama than is their most formidable rival,
Vancouver, and this is an advantage which no art or cun-
ning of man can overcome. Consequently they rest
assured that the great highway between London and
Japan will be through Prince Eupert. Then Alaska is
wakening up. Its immense resources are being de-

THE "LIVERPOOL OF THE PACIFIC*' 30S

veloped : capital and labour are flowing to that huge
country, and as Prince Eupert is the natural doorway
thereto, it is confidently expected that all Alaskan traffic
will flow through this channel.

Nor are these the only factors. Off the coast, within
a few hours' sail of the port, are immense fishing grounds,
the wealth of which in halibut, herring, and cod is incal-
culable. Vessels come to this region from all parts of
the coast to participate in the silvery harvest of the sea.
The shore line of the Queen Charlotte Islands, in the
midst of this fishing area, is dotted with canneries, and
it is no uncommon circumstance for a single haul of
salmon to aggregate 10,000 prime fish. As many as
75,000 have been trapped in the nets as the result of a
single cast, so that some idea of the magnitude of the
industry, which employs over 12,000 men, may be
gathered. In 1909 over 18,000,000 pounds of halibut
were caught in the waters between Prince Rupert and
the Queen Charlotte Islands, representing a value of
over iG200,000, while the salmon catch was valued at
£1,000,000.

Hitherto the whole of this produce has had to be
shipped to the interior of the continent via Seattle and
Vancouver, but when the railway runs east from Prince
Eupert it will be diverted into the new channel, since,
via Prince Eupert, it will be possible to land the fish by
refrigerator car at Chicago in the same time as is now
taken by the vessels to make Seattle or Vancouver.
British capital is being attracted to this industry in a
very pronbunced degree, and refrigerating plant is spring-
ing up around the port on all sides to cope with the situa-
tion which will develop when Chicago, Toronto, New
York, and the east generally, have a new vent on the

Pacific.

******

The twinkling lights of Prince Eupert were rapidly
slipping below the horizon as the Prince Rupert throbbed

304 THE NEW GARDEN OF CANADA

up the harbour. The white snow-cap of Mount Hays,
standing sentinel over the harbour, and forming a solid,
sombre background to the bustling community at its
base, floated like a cloud in the clear firmament illumined
by the red, purple, amber and green of the Northern
Lights. The last of the bright yellow stars, drawn out in
a long, thin line, dancing on the water and marking the
navigable channel, glided astern. We gave a sharp turn
as we gained the open Pacific to enter the inland pas-
sage, and were soon ploughing through wildly picturesque
fjords wrapped in a silence that could be felt, the steamer
feeling its way by the echoing of the siren from headland
to headland. We were southward bound for Vancouver,
Victoria and Seattle. The deadfall-littered trail, the rush-
ing waterways, the little communities rising in the wilder-
ness, and the silent wilds through which we had wan-
dered for some 1,200 miles, were all left behind. The
bewitching call of the wild was still sounding in our
ears. But for us the alluring cry was in vain.

INDEX

Acquilget, 265

Agriculture at Stoney Creek, 206

in Bulkley Valley, 240, 243. 253

in Nechaco Valley. 193, 194, 196

(see also Farming et passim)

Albrejda Pass. 121

Alcohol, prohibition of, at " End-of-

Steel " 7
Aldermere, 'l31. 246. 248
Alfalfa at Stoney Creek, 207
Amery. Mr. L. S., 113
A-mo, Indian boatman, 130
Antimaul, 282
Ashcroft, 163
Athabaska Elver. 53, 82. 92. 93

Valley, meadowland in. 66

B

Babine Lake. 227, 231

Mountains, 231, 242

Baker, the packer. 260, 261
Bald-headed eagles on the Fraser. 140
Bannock, 36, 95

Bear-shooting on the Fraser. 138

Bella Coola, 225

Bednesti Meadows, 191

Big-Eddy. 20

Bobtail. 205

Bog-holes, 20

Bridge-building, 13, 35

Brown, Joe, 40

Brule Lake, 66

Bulkley Divide. 232

River, 235, 243

Valley, 230. 236, 243. 253

farming in, 238

fruit-growing in, 241

BuUrush Mountain, 67
Burns Lake. 222. 224, 225
Bush, clearing the. 133

fires, 50. 183

hospital, 58

hotel, 40

storms, 53

Canoe River, 121

Canoeing on the Fraser. 128. 141

Cariboo Road, 163

Cascade Mountains, 242. 286, 288

Catering in the bush. 40, 55

Cedarwood, 263

Celery-growing at Stoney Creek,

Cheslatta Lake, 214, 226

Chilako River. 189

207

Clark, William. 233

Clearing the bush, 133

Coal deposits at Aldermere, 249, 250

at Roche Miette, 71

— at Tel-kwa, 249, 250

Colin Mountains. 91
Colonisation scheme. 275
Columbia River, 120

Cooks, demand for, in the bush. 25

wages of, 25

Corralling horses, 60, 62, 261
CVjttonwood, 263

Creeks, 20

Crooked River, 157

Crossing Athabaska River, 82

— Moose River, 107

Daniels, Mr. J. B.. 174
Decker Lake. 226
Denis. Indian boatman. 131
Derr Creek, 95, 96
Digby Island, 293
Distances Canadian, 108
Doctors, demand for, 276
Dominion Prairie, 95
Drystone Creek, 66
Dug-outs. Indian. 128

E

Eagle Pass, 101

Eagles on the Fraser, 140

Edmonton, 1. 39

Edson, 12, 30

land values at, 33

Endako River. 219
End-of-Steel town, 1
Engineers, openings for, 29
Essington, Port, 292

Farming at Fort George. 173

future of, in Mud River Valley,

189

in Bulkley Valley, 238

prospects of. near Fraser Lake,

219

(gee also Agriculture et pas»im)

Fiddle Back Mountains, 76

Creek, 66, 69

hot springs at, 70

Fire warden on the Praaer River, 136
Fires, bush, 183
results of, 50

305

3o6

INDEX

Fish Lake, 79

Fishing grounds ofl Prince Bapert.

303
Folding Mountain, 66
Fort Fraser, 212, 213

George, 159. 160. 161

commercial position of, 161

cost of food at. 169

farming at, 173

land purchase at, 171, 181

prospects of, 161

streets at, 165

St. James. 165, 213

Francois Lake. 226
Fraser Lake, 214

farming prospects near. 219

Eiver. 102. Ill

canoeing on. 128, 141

Valley, prospects of, 134, 136

Simon, 103

Fruit-growing in Bulkley Valley, 241

in Kitsumkalim Valley, 286

in Skeena Valley, 280

wild, at Stoney Greek. 203

in Bulkley Valley, 231

G

Gale, Mr. Reginald, 249

Game warden on the Fraser Eiver.

154
Geikie. Mount. 81, 91
Oiscombe, 156

Portage, 157

Eapids, 157

Glacier House, 255

Glaciers on Mount Eobson, 113
GIucuIb Lake, 193
Goat Eapids, 143

Eiver, 143

Grand Oaflon, 147

Fork. 117

Trunk Pacific Eailway, 2, 26. 35.

57. 269. 290. 294. 297 et passim
Grant Brook. 104
Gregg, the old pioneer, 64
Griffiths. Mr. J. Norton, M.P., 275

HaB-wel-get, 265

" Hard Scrubble," Skeena River, 283

Hardisty Creek. 56

Mount, 57

Hawes, Jasper, 77, 100. 118
Hay at Stoney Greek. 206

in Bulkley Valley. 243

in Nechaco Valley. 193, 196

Hays, Mr. David M.. 298
Hazel ton. 267. 268. 269
Helena, Lake, 115

Hikers. 54, 117. 228
Hole-in-the-Wall. 289
" Hornets' Nest," Skeena River, 279
Horses, loading. 37

roving tendencies of, 36

Horse-stealing by Indians, 60, 62. 261
Hospital at Haielton, 273

in the bush. 58

Hot springs at Piddle Creek. 70
Hotel in the bush, 40

Hudson's Bay Company. 63. 77
Mountain. 250, 255

Indian outlaws. 270
Indians, 200, 202

horse-stealing proclivities of. 60.

261

Jasper Lake, 76

National Park, 63

fauna in, 64

flora in, 65

game warden of, 66

sealing of firearms in.

66
Joe, the cook, 256
Journalism at Fort George, 174

Kaien Island, 293
Keller, Ernest, 119

experiences of, 123

Kicking Horse Pass, 101
Kinney, Rev. B. M., 114
Kispiox Valley, 270. 274
Kitselas Canon. 278. 283
Kitsumkalim Valley, 286

fruit-growing in, 286

Kitwanger, 288
Klootchmans. 158
Kootenay, 281

Labour in New British Columbia.
4. 21. 27. 29. 166. 172 et passim
Lake Francois, 226
Helena, 115

Totuk. 189

Lakelse Lake. 287
Laketown. 208

Le Barge, 199, 212
Lead at Aldermere. 249

at Tel-kwa. 249

Lefort, Vital, the ferryman, 211

experiences of, 211

Lett. Mr. Robert C. W. 97. 232. 256

Little Smoky River, 136

Lonely trail, 92

Louis, Indian boatman, 130. 132

Lumber industry at Aldermere, 253

at Tel-kwa. 252, 253

on Bulkley River, 253

McGlennan River, 121
Mclnnes brothers, 236

experiences of, 211

ranch of. 236

Mackenzie River, 157

the pioneer, 55

Mackenzie's hotel, 115
McLeod River. 13, 15, 44, 46, 52

J

INDEX

307

McLeod VaUey. pasturage in. 45

Medical men. demand for. 276
Medicine Lake, 91

S?i..'"aiu.'5ir »..^^in MIC.
Mountain region. 122

at Aldermere. 249

at Bazelton. 272

at Tel-kwa. 249

in Babine Range. 231

in Bulkley Valley. 253

Moberly'B Pass. 100

Moose Lake, 107

f^ River. 105, 106

crossing the, lU'

Morice Biver ^42

Moricetown. 242. 258

MosQuitoes. 142

Mount Geikie, 81. 91

Hardisty. 57

EobscJn, 112

Peelee, 102

Thompson, 120

Mud Eiver. 189

MuBkeg, 27, 47. 48. 81. 234

N

Naltesly Lake. 189

Nanaimo, 250

Nechaoo Eiver, 158, 160. Ibl

Valley. 190

Noolki Creek, 210

2 Lake, 204. 208, 210

North Fork Eiver. 152

Thomson Eiver. 1^1 _„

North-West Trading Company, 63, n

Oats at Stoney Creek. 206
__ in Bulkley Valley. 244
Okanagan. 281
Ootaa Lake. 189. 226
OutlawB. 270

Pack-horsea. 17 ^^

ZZ Itrain° crossing Athabaska Eiver.

management of. 17

Parsnip Eiver, 157 ,,

PMturage in Athabaska Valley. 56

1 in McLeod Valley. 45

Peace Eiver. 157

. Pass. 100

Peelee Mount. 102

Pillsbnry. Mr. J. H- 295

Pine Eiver Pass, 100

Pioneer Eanch. 236. 24i5

Pioneers. 18

Port EsBington 292 „,» ,43

Potatoes in Bulkley Valley, 240. i-^a

Prairie Creek. 57

Prince Rupert,. 293. 294

building of, 295. 301

land values at. 297. 300

streets at. 300

Queen Charlotte Islande. 303
Queanel. 164. 195

B

Eailway construction, 4. 26. 57. 290.

291 et posstm.
Eainbow Mountains, 106, 108. UO
Eainfall in Endako VaUey, 219
__- in Praser Eiver Valley. 141

in Nechaco Valley. 192

Eanch of the Mclnnes brothers. 236

near Fraser Lake, ii-i

Eau Shuswap Eiver. 137
Eobson, Mount, 112
Roche Miette. 71, 73

coal deposits at, n

Eocky Eiver, 76 78

Roger's Pass, 100 „,,

Ruisell. Mr. G. Home. 143. 255

B

Salmon curing, 258. 292

_- fishing. 258. 291. 292

" Salmon Leap," 258

Sam, the packer, 179. 232. 233

Saskatoon, boom at. 14

Selkirk Mountains, lil ...

Settlements outside Fort George. 181.

182
Shooting Goat Rapids 143. 144

Grand Canon. 147

Silver at Aldermere, 249

at Tel-kwa. 249

Siwash Indians 130 204, 257
Skeena River. 268, 277 . .

Valley, fruit-growing m. ZBO

Snaring River, 76

Soda Creek, 163

South Babine district. 227

Bulkley telegraph station. Hi

Starvation Flat, 122
Station-men, 26
Stella, Indian village. 219
Stoney Creek. 202

agriculture at, 205

celery-growing at, zu/

Storms in the bush. 53
Streets at Fort George. 165
at Prince Eupert, 300

Stuart Lake. 165. 213. 227
Eiver, 165. 214

Summit Lake, 157

Surgeons, demand for, z/o

Surveyors at work, 137

3o8

INDEX

Swift Current, 117

the frontiersman, 83, 84

Swine in Bulkley Valley, 241

Tachick Lake. 208. 210

Team of horses, management of. 20

Teamster, life of a. 21

Telegraph linesmen, 221

operators. 224

Telephone at Fort George, 177
Tel-kwa, 248

Kiver, 249

Tete Jaune Cache, 118
Thompson, Mount, 120
Timber round Gluculz Lake, 193

in Skeena Valley, 280

-jam, 130

Totem poles, 281
Totuk Lake. 189
Trail, difficulties of, 38. 47

how to walk along, 38

lonely, 92

Trout, abundance of. 92, 102, 116
Tsinkut Lake, 196. 201. 210
Turnips in Balklcy Valley, 240

Upper Nechaco River, 214

V

Vital Creek, 212

W

Wapiti Pass. 100

Wheat in Bulkley Valley. 244

" White Mud," 40

Williams. George. 127. IJl

Wilson, the frontiersman. 124, 125.

133
Wolf Creek. 1, 3
Wood-cutting in Praser Eiver Valley.

155

Yellowhead Lake, 101

abundance of trout in 102

Pass, 94. 99

derivation of, 100

Tukon telegraph, 197, 198, 223

Printbo sy Casseu. & Company, Limitbd, La Belli Sauvagb, London, E.G.

BINDlk^C

JUL 1 1 198

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CD »1

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